Not Fate
by LJlashlarue
Summary: A 30 year old Hermione decides that she needs a change. A 32 year old Fleur is led to the same conclusion. How will their new lives intersect, and what demons might be in the past? T-M Potential triggers, read chapter warnings! This is NOT an incest fic.
1. Chapter 1

Author: Lash_Larue  
>Title: "Not Fate" Chapter one of 28<p>

Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured  
>Rating: PG<p>

Summary: Things don't always work out like one expects

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant  
>Word Count: 1050<p>

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

A/N: Present day, not my usual

"Not Fate"

Chapter One

The sun was warm on Hermione Granger's skin as she wandered the shore of the small Caribbean island. The resort was exclusive, and very expensive, and she really couldn't afford it.

But it was warm and uncrowded and nobody knew her, and those were all things that she desperately needed.

She was tired of being famous, tired of the demands on her time and talents, tired of being expected to have all of the answers. She was tired from her divorce, tired of being asked _what went wrong_, as if she and Ron were a couple of destiny, or something.

They had been thrown together by events and had clung to each other in their fear and uncertainty, but in the years following the war whatever passion they had for each other had faded, and the marriage along with it. She couldn't understand why everyone had been so surprised and upset. She and Ron had each lost friends because of their divorce, it seemed that they all had to take sides for some reason. Ron and Hermione were perfectly friendly with each other, indeed, they made much better friends than lovers, but they couldn't even enjoy one another's company without the disapproving glares of one faction or another.

Harry blamed Ron, and Ginny blamed Hermione, and as a result neither she nor Ron could be around their best friends either together or alone, and so now they didn't even speak to each other when passing in the street. She had resumed the name she was born with and pressed on.

Guiltily, Hermione admitted to herself that she was relieved that her pregnancies had failed. She had an ache that never went away, but she knew that things were simpler without children involved. Even her parents never mentioned grandchildren any longer, and Hermione felt guilty about that as well.

So now she had spent most of her savings in a quest to find a little peace and anonymity, and somewhat to her surprise it seemed to be working. No one showed more than a polite interest in her here, she was after all a fairly ordinary looking thirty year old woman, presumably well-off, who sent clear signals that she wished to be left alone, and the few other vacationers here were like-minded.

She had two weeks left, then back to the world.

Two weeks to plot a future for herself that was what she _wanted_, not what was expected of her.

She spread her towel out and lay face down in the sun, letting the warmth ease the ever present tension as the soft sand formed itself to her like the lover she didn't have, didn't want, and didn't need.

xxxx

Fleur Delacour walked the familiar strand as if she owned it. She did not, but she had spent her summers here as far back as she could remember. The resort staff all knew her and liked her, for the Delacours had always been generous to the residents of the small island, and the fact that the family's fortune had dwindled had not lessened the islanders regard for them.

The vacation home on this island was all that was left; Fleur's father had managed to preserve it when his business collapsed. Perhaps the death of Fleur's mother had caused him to make the blunders he had made, but his memories of the joy of the island home had been strong enough for him to secure that for his children as best he could before he ended his life. Gabrielle could not bear to be there, not yet, and in any case was fully occupied with her career in the French Ministry. The petite woman was the most feared Auror on the continent.

Fleur taught charms at Beauxbatons, she was a very good teacher and enjoyed her work as much as her sister did hers.

But a Professor and an Auror did not have the income to support a home on this island, and Fleur had been faced with difficult decisions.

"I cannot decide, Fleur," Gabrielle had told her, "I am sorry, but I must leave it to you. I promise not to question your decision, and it should be yours, you love the place more than I do. You know what I can afford to contribute to the house, and I pledge to do it. But I cannot decide. I love you, Fleur."

The sisters had held each other long, sharing the grief that was theirs to share.

As for the grief that she could not share, Fleur shouldered it alone. Oh, there were many volunteers to lighten her burden, at thirty-two Fleur was at the peak of her beauty. She was also at the end of her patience with men and women who were so taken with it that they never looked past it.

Bill had, but Bill was gone.

"The wolf is growing in me, Fleur," he had said. "I will always love you, but I have to be with my own kind. It is not safe for me to stay with you."

"Where will you go?" she had asked him.

"I have no idea," he answered, and he walked out the door.

The Weasleys had been unanimous in blaming Fleur for the failure of the marriage and Bill's leaving, as they had blamed her for the lack of children. That didn't sting as much as she had thought that it would, she had never believed that they cared much for her anyway.

Fleur had come to the island to plan her future, and to put the house in the hands of an agency that would handle the rental and maintenance of it. It had been the only way that she could keep it. It hurt, the thought of strangers living in her special place, for it had always been just family here. Even Bill had never been. But for the single week each year that she would be able to afford to be here, it would be hers. Perhaps some day Gabrielle would come with her. That would be nice.

A small sound of irritation escaped her lips as she saw that someone was laying on her favorite spot on the beach.

She turned on her heel and headed inland.

It was time to pack up the house anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

Author: Lash_Larue  
>Title: "Not Fate" Chapter Two of 28<p>

Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured  
>Rating: PG<p>

Summary: Things don't always work out like one expects

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant  
>Word Count: 1450<p>

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

A/N: Present day, not my usual.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Two

With one week left of her vacation, Hermione had come to a decision. She finished her letter of resignation from the Ministry and sent it off by owl. She let out a deep sigh of content as it flew out of sight; it was like the bird carried her unhappiness and frustration with it.

She was free.

She was also unemployed and had very little money left, but she had several offers to consider. She took a large binder with her and went to sit on the beach. She wanted a radical change in her life, and so she set aside offers from other Ministries in Europe. Hogwarts wanted her, but there were simply too many memories there for her to go back. Not to mention that she would be pestered endlessly for details on the war, and Harry, and _how did it feel to be a prisoner of Bellatrix Lestrange_. No-bloody-thank-you.

A waiter brought her a tropical drink, it was one of those things that she had always thought was ridiculously overdone, served in a real pineapple, of all things, and no doubt containing enough sugar to destroy the teeth her parents had worked so hard on. But here in the warm sun, on the soft sand by the blue water, she closed her eyes in pleasure as she sucked the refreshing concoction through a straw and thought it was one of the most wonderful things she had ever tasted.

Perhaps it was the look of bliss on her face that drew the attention of the young man walking down the beach; perhaps it was the relief of having decided things that led her to accept his invitation to dinner. Perhaps it was the wine that led her to wrap her legs around him in the moonlit sea that night.

But it was her sense of self that enjoyed it, and allowed her to feel no guilt or reluctance in declining a second invitation. She simply did not feel like it, and granting herself permission to put her own desires first shattered the last of the chains holding her to What Was Expected of Her.

With three days left of her vacation she turned on her laptop and sent an encrypted message to the Hawaiian Institute for Advanced Magical Studies. Hermione Granger had decided that she had had enough. Enough of suiting other people, enough of cold winters and cloudy skies, enough of daily seeing places where people she knew had died. Teaching Magic Theory on a tropical island seemed like the very thing, it would not be as secluded as St. Catherine's island, but they would pay her to be there. They had also been impressed enough by her to offer her her own department. She would not only teach, which she loved to do, but she would decide what and how to teach some of the brightest students in the world.

And they would know her only by her body of work and what she did from now on.

"I should have done this years ago," she told herself as she settled back in her beach chair and accepted another fruity treat compliments of the management. In fact she could not have done it years ago; it was her most recent publication that had resulted in the offer from Hawaii. She knew this perfectly well of course, but she had always wanted to say that, and now she had a reason to.

xxxx

"Fleur my darling girl, you must make a change in your life. I can no longer sit by idly and watch you slide into misery," Madame Maxime told her frankly that evening over dinner.

Start of term always found Fleur having dinner with her old friend and teacher.

There were quite a few "always" events in her life when it came to it, but this was one that she enjoyed.

"I don't know what you mean, Olympe," Fleur protested.

"Nonsense," Olympe replied, "do not be ridiculous, it does not suit you. I know you, Fleur. You are a candle with a guttering flame; you must get out of the wind before your light goes out." Olympe smiled gently at her. "But enough of this flowery speech. You are depressed, of course you are, who wouldn't be in your shoes? Your tragic losses - oh, I know that many people lost things in the war, but your losses did not stop there. Do not imagine that I do not know of your treatment at the hands of those who should have supported you, should have been family to you."

Fleur stared at Olympe in silence.

"You are my favorite student ever, Fleur; you are a gifted teacher, and my dear friend. But I am discharging you at the end of this term. I cannot allow you to waste away here, and I will not sit and watch you shrivel and die."

"You have a strange way of showing your love for me, Olympe," Fleur said coldly. "I am not wealthy, as you know full well. Aside from teaching I have only my beauty, would you have me earn my living on my back?"

Olympe turned ghastly pale at the words.

"I know that you do not mean those words, but the fact that you can speak them proves my point. You have lost yourself, lost the real Fleur Delacour. You must find her again, for she is too precious to lose. Your things will be safe here for as long as you need them to be. You will receive two years salary as severance; we shall call it a sabbatical, non? Zat is how it will be entered into the records here, a paid leave as reward for outstanding service. I have prepared several letters of recommendation for you, and made discreet inquiries on your behalf at other schools."

"I apologize for my harsh words, my friend," Fleur said softly. "I do indeed know that you want only the best for me, I am simply scared and uncertain. This is not like me. You are right, things must change. Putting the house at St. Catherine's up for rental was very – difficult - for me. I could not even spend a last hour in my favorite spot on the beach, someone was already there…"

"There are indeed other people in the world," agreed Olympe, "some of them no doubt worth knowing."

"Where do you think I should go, Olympe?"

"We have time enough for you to decide where you _want_ to go. Look beyond your accustomed boundaries, Fleur, the world is open to you. If I may suggest it, use the first of your sabbatical to travel and visit other schools. I think you'll find that most of them would gladly pay your travel expenses to interview with them, and if they will not, then you would not wish to teach there anyway," she said with a dismissive flick of her huge fingers.

"I am nothing special," Fleur protested.

"Ahh, but you are, and if I have to force you to see this, I shall."

Tears filled Fleur's eyes, and she stood and rounded the table to embrace Olympe. Even seated, Olympe towered over Fleur, and Fleur's arms did not begin to reach around her. It was nevertheless a most satisfactory hug, and the huge hand was gentle as Olympe softly stroked the silver hair of this woman she loved as a daughter.


	3. Chapter 3

Author: Lash_Larue  
>Title: "Not Fate" Chapter Three of 28<p>

Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured  
>Rating: PG<p>

Summary: Things don't always work out like one expects

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant  
>Word Count: 1050<p>

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

"Not Fate"

Chapter Three

"I could get used to this," Hermione thought as she browned in the sun on the white beach owned by the institute. _Her_ institute, she liked to think. She had hit the ground running, and with the enthusiastic support of the board had set up the Department of Experimental Transfiguration. The first term started tomorrow, and she was stealing some relaxation time while she still had the beach to herself. Once term started the students would be here when they had the opportunity. She gave a small smile as she reflected that she would be very surprised to see _her_ students here very often. Her students had passed rigorous testing to be accepted, and she had had the final say on all but one.

xxxx

"He's a legacy student, Professor," the dean had explained. "His mother is extremely generous in her support of the school. And even you have to admit that his grades and test scores are fully up to requirements."

"His essay was rubbish. I have no doubt that his mother's money influenced the test results," Hermione retorted.

"Likely you're right," admitted the dean, "but even ivory towers have to have strong foundations. Just give the boy the same chance you give the other students, he can either cut it or he can't. I won't try and force you to keep him if he can't make the grade. But be careful not to start with the idea that he can't do it, that would be unworthy of you."

"I'd never –" Hermione had begun, but she realized that she had indeed been in danger of prejudging him. "Thank you, Dean Wilkes. I suppose that I was indeed being unfair. Roger Staunton will get the same treatment as everyone else, I promise."

"I never doubted it. You've done a remarkable job setting up your department, Hermione. I knew we made the right decision in hiring you. I very much look forward to the work your students and you will produce."

"I'll try not to disappoint, Dean Wilkes," Hermione answered.

"You just worry about your own expectations for the department; if it meets your standards it will exceed mine. I'm not about to interfere with how you run things, anyone who disproves one of Gamp's exceptions is far beyond me. Now then, it's time to take off my dean hat. I suppose that you are going to seize the chance to work on that marvelous tan before the eager young minds arrive?" Wilkes asked with a smile.

"I might just do that, it's a shame we can't market that tanning potion in the Muggle world. Secrecy has its drawbacks, doesn't it, Dean Wilkes?" Hermione replied with a smile of her own.

"It does indeed, but the FDA would never approve flobberworm extract in any case. And it's Linda now, see?" The dean pointed to her head, which was now only covered by short brown curls. "No hat."

"Yes Linda, will you join me?"

"Alas, the hat is off but I have another meeting soon. I must regretfully decline," Linda answered her.

The two women exchanged rueful smiles. It had become apparent to both of them shortly after Hermione had arrived that there was an extremely powerful attraction between them. Hermione had initially been surprised at having these feelings for a woman, but when she considered it she realized that Linda Wilkes was everything that she admired in a human being, and so why wouldn't her body respond?

But they both knew that their professional relationship made a personal one unwise to the point of impossibility. They both enjoyed the little tingle, though.

xxxx

So Hermione baked serenely in the sun, protected by the humble flobberworm from its deleterious and dangerous effects. She drew a great deal of satisfaction from the knowledge that she would indeed get used to this. She was home.

xxxx

"A marvelous term, Fleur," Olympe complimented her, "your N.E.W.T. students set records. You have done Beauxbatons proud."

"And yet you are still giving me the sack," Fleur replied, but the smile on her face took away any sting that her words might have caused.

"I prefer to think that I am letting you out of the sack, mon petite. When do your interviews begin?"

"Not until next month, I am going to spend some time with my sister."

"Will you two go to your island nest?" Olympe asked.

"Alas, no," Fleur told her, "Gabrielle cannot yet bear the thought of the house without Papa. And in any case my week is set for the end of the year, not the term break."

"Forgive me, I had forgotten," Olympe murmured as her face flamed. (That was quite a sight, something akin to a sunset.) "I wonder if I could perhaps rent the house for you from time to time? I have little to spend money on, you know."

"That is very sweet of you Olympe," Fleur acknowledged with a smile, "and if you want to rent the house I shall expedite things, the ceilings are high enough for you. But I must reach my own accommodation with St. Catherine's."

"I understand, and of course you are right. Now that my plan is come to the full, I find myself reluctant to see you go." Olympe heaved a sigh, also an impressive sight. "It is a true burden to be always right, do you know this?"

"I certainly do not, that is a burden we cannot share, my friend. But in my case you are beyond doubt right. I must move on, but that is not to say that I will not miss you, or that I shall not visit."

"You had better visit, Fleur Isabelle. Do not force me to hunt you down!" Olympe scowled fiercely, but the look that had once turned her knees to water now brought a fond smile to Fleur's face.

"You are my dearest friend, Olympe," Fleur said as she kissed her, "how can I ever thank you for what you have done for me?"

"It will be difficult to do," Olympe said gravely, "the only thanks I shall accept is your happiness, n'est ce pas?"

"I will try, Olympe. I will surely try."


	4. Chapter 4

Author: Lash_Larue  
>Title: "Not Fate" Chapter Four of 28<p>

Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured  
>Rating: PG13<p>

Summary: You can't always outrun the past, but you can control the present

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant  
>Word Count: 1650<p>

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

"Not Fate"

Chapter Four

"That completes my introduction," Hermione told her students. "Are there any questions?"

"What can you tell us about Lord Voldemort?" Roger Staunton demanded.

Hermione closed her eyes and breathed deeply, striving to control herself. She had dared to hope that this subject would not come up.

"I can tell you nothing whatsoever about Lord Voldemort, Mr. Staunton, to my knowledge, no such person ever existed," she said shortly.

"Oh, come on, Professor! We've all heard about him, greatest wizard ever, killed lots of people? Surely _you've_ heard of him? I mean, it did happen in your backyard, didn't it?" the boy pressed.

Hermione's eyes flamed.

"_Killed lots of people?_ Is that how you measure greatness, Mr. Staunton?" she asked coldly. "In that case, with a mere flick of my wrist I can become the greatest witch of all history. I promise you Mr. Staunton, that these beautiful islands simply _yearn_ to return to the molten hell they sprang from. Shall I do it? Do you wish to witness greatness first hand?" Hermione raised her wand.

"Well no, of course not, but it's ridiculous to deny that Lord Voldemort existed, it's a matter of history," insisted Staunton.

"And this is not history, Mr. Staunton. This is experimental transfiguration. However, I shall respond, just this once. _"Lord Voldemort"_, as he styled himself, was an insane and megalomaniacal dark wizard named Tom Riddle. He was the product of a downtrodden witch's desperate attempt to escape her hellishly abusive home life. He was a half blood who felt himself tainted by his Muggle father's blood. He was an admittedly gifted wizard, and the most arrant coward in the history of the world. He catered to people's insecurities and paranoia, as well as their vanities and prejudices, and he built a large following of similarly damaged and corrupt witches and wizards. And yes, he did indeed kill a lot of people, including many of my friends. Would you explain to all of us how this makes him great?"

"Oh come on Hermione, we all know you played a major role in his defeat. Tell us how it really was, don't be shy, girl," Staunton oiled.

"Very well Mr. Staunton, I shall tell you how it really was. Riddle and his followers killed helpless Muggles for sport. They sodomized mothers while they fed their infants to werewolves. This madman was so afraid of his own mortality that he killed, tortured, maimed, mutilated, raped, despoiled and befouled, all in a futile attempt to attain immortality. He very nearly completely ruptured the veil of secrecy that protects us all. And I promise you Mr. Staunton, that if the Muggle world at large becomes aware of us, they will purge us from the earth. Individually they are helpless before us; together they could burn us to a cinder. I know this. I am Muggle born."

"_Great_, you call him? He was killed in open duel by a teenager using someone else's wand, while he himself held the most powerful wand ever made. Killed by a teenaged wizard who could not qualify for this class. Harry Potter is a great wizard, yes, not because of his power, but because of his heart, his sense of right. Albus Dumbledore was a great wizard, and Nicholas Flamel, and Aldlethwaite Gamp, because they created, they advanced knowledge. Minerva McGonagall is a great witch; I saw her form an army from student desks and fight tirelessly despite her advanced age. Severus Snape was a great wizard, and perhaps the bravest person I have ever known, and I have known some very courageous people. Tom Riddle was a pathetic stain on wizardkind, nothing more."

The class was silent for a time, and then Staunton tried again.

"Gamp? Great? Come on, Hermione, you proved him wrong, we've all read that paper, it's why most of us are here."

"Mr. Staunton, might I remind you that it took _five hundred years_, and _me_, to prove _one_ of his five exceptions wrong. Frankly, I don't see you doing half so well. One thing further Mr. Staunton, I will not pretend that your mother does not have influence here. Witness your presence in this class. But if you ever again address me as anything other than 'Professor', or 'Professor Granger", you will find yourself barred from this program. The same thing applies to you or anyone else who broaches this subject again in this class. Have I made this sufficiently clear to you all?"

She had.

xxxx

"You wanted to see me, Dean Wilkes?" Hermione asked upon entering the dean's office.

"Indeed, I have here a letter from Inez Staunton. There is an enclosure for you as well," Dean Wilkes informed her.

"Let's have it then," Hermione said grimly.

The dean smiled broadly.

"Inez wants me to thank you for bringing young Roger up short. She says that it's long overdue, and that she is thrilled to have finally found a teacher with, pardon me, 'the balls to straighten his ass out'. The enclosure is a lease agreement for two months on a house on St. Catherine's island. But I suppose you wouldn't be interested in that," Wilkes said with a wide grin.

"St. Catherine's? Two months? You can't be serious! Oh, wait, there is no way that I can accept this, it's completely improper," Hermione said as she deflated.

"Actually it's quite proper, Ms. Staunton is on the board, and she has stipulated that the house is to be available to any qualified staff member."

"Oh, I see, well, that does make a difference," Hermione muttered, seeing her idyllic solitude vanish.

"Oddly, you are the only qualified staff member," Dean Wilkes informed her. "Hermione, your handling of that young reprobate has gotten us a new research department and enriched our endowment greatly. It's fair for you to have this; the rest of the staff will be overjoyed with their pay raises. I know what that island means to you, I only wish I could go with you."

"But..."

"No. No buts. Now then, I have another item to toss in your lap. I want you to help me interview a prospective faculty member. A Charms Theory instructor. She comes highly recommended, and I believe that you know her. Fleur Delacour?"

"Of course I know her," Hermione granted. "We – went through a lot together in England. She's certainly qualified, though I'm surprised that she's leaving France."

"Is it any odder than you leaving England?"

"Perhaps not, when does she arrive?"

"Tomorrow, her appointment is at eleven, just before lunch," Dean Wilkes informed her.

"Fine. By the way, does she know that I'm here?"

"Not from me, it didn't seem necessary to inform her, should I have done so?"

"No. Ms. Delacour will have to qualify like anyone else. From what I recall of her she wouldn't have it any other way," Hermione answered.

"That's good to hear. Madame Maxime was quite generous in her praise of Ms. Delacour, and Beauxbatons has an excellent reputation…"

"It is well-deserved," Hermione assured, "is there anything further?"

"Not just now. Do be sure and send me a postcard from St. Catherine's, won't you?"

"If I can find the time while fighting off the droves of handsome young men who are lusting over my body, of course," Hermione agreed.

"Men?" Dean Wilkes questioned, enjoying the blush her comment caused.

xxxx

"Professor Granger…" came a hesitant voice at her office door that evening.

"Yes," Hermione replied, "come in, I have a few minutes before I go home."

Hermione tensed when Roger Staunton entered her office.

"I want to apologize to you, Professor Granger," he began.

"I'm listening," she granted.

"I'd like to start over with you, if I could," he began. "This isn't easy to admit, but I know was a complete idiot in our first class. It's just that…"

"Go on, Mr. Staunton," Hermione encouraged, interested in spite of herself.

"Well, have you ever done something just because you thought people expected you to? I have a kind of reputation, a 'bad boy' image. I don't even know exactly how I got it, but people expect me to sort of act out, do you understand? I'm smart, really, it's just that… oh, shit, I don't know how to explain this," he trailed off.

"Actually, Mr. Staunton, I know exactly what you're talking about, and I am willing to make a fresh start with you," Hermione told him.

"Really? You mean it?"

"I do indeed. I've gone a bit deeper into your transcripts since our little encounter, and once you get past the bullshit, you can see something real underneath. Give me your best efforts, Mr. Staunton, and I'll give you mine. Deal?"

"Yes Professor! Thank you Professor! I'll see you in class, Professor!"

He fled from the room, and Hermione smiled in contentment. Moments like this were why she loved to teach.

"Err, Professor Granger?" came the tentative voice once again.

"Do make it quick please, Mr. Staunton," she answered.

"Yes Ma'am. I – I was wondering if you could really destroy the islands with a flick of your wand?"

"Of course not Mr. Staunton, I was exaggerating to make a point, and I was angry," she admitted.

"Oh, that's good then, thank you," he responded, relieved.

"It would take a fairly complex movement of the wand to do that," she explained. "Will there be anything further? I really would like to get home."


	5. Chapter 5

Author: Lash_Larue  
>Title: "Not Fate" Chapter Five of 28<p>

Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured  
>Rating: PG13<p>

Summary: An angel in paradise

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant  
>Word Count: 1350<p>

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

"Not Fate"

Chapter Five

"I am pleased to meet you Professor Delacour," Dean Wilkes said as she extended her hand, "welcome to Hawaii and the institute. Aloha, as we say here."

"Thank you Dean Wilkes, these leis are a charming custom. I am quite partial to orchids, but I have never seen them in such profusion," Fleur commented.

"Be sure and tour the greenhouses before you go, our herbology department has some very unusual hybrids. My colleague will be here momentarily, Experimental Transfiguration is a new department this year, and there are the inevitable bumps in the road. I apologize for the delay."

"Think nothing of it, I quite understand," Fleur assured her.

"Madame Maxime speaks most highly of you, Professor," Wilkes began, "and your resume is quite impressive. What led you to apply here?"

"Your curriculum is interesting, and the chance to work in Charms development was also an attraction, as was your reputation. And of course, there is the setting, this is a beautiful island."

"It is indeed. Ahh, I think I hear her now," Dean Wilkes said as she turned to the door. "Professor Granger, I believe that you know Professor Delacour?"

Hermione had her wand out so fast that Dean Wilkes took a step back.

"I don't know what you're about, Madame," she said severely, "but I suggest that you explain yourself quickly. I know Fleur Delacour. I have _fought_ beside Fleur Delacour. Fleur Delacour is my friend, and if you have harmed her in any way I promise you that you shall regret it."

Dean Wilkes stared at the tableau in shock, a shock that was not lessened when the visitor smiled broadly.

"Hermione my friend, I see that you have not lost your reflexes, and I am most gratified by your concern for my well being. It is indeed me, may I explain?"

"I really wish that you would," Hermione answered, not relaxing a bit.

"This is a glamour, a charm," Fleur explained.

"Nonsense," Hermione insisted, "I am more than capable of detecting a glamour."

"Always confident, and not without reason, I grant you. But charms are my particular expertise. Let me see, how to convince you, since I am quite sure that you will not allow me to get my wand… ahh! I have it! Do you recall where we were once naked together? We looked like twins, did we not?"

Dean Wilkes was completely lost by now, particularly when Hermione's face broke out in a smile. This woman was much taller than Hermione, and of completely different build and coloring.

"A Muggle kitchen, was it not?" Hermione answered.

"A dreary place called Little Whinging, if I recall," Fleur responded with a smile of her own.

"May I?" Hermione asked as she lowered her wand and extended her free hand towards Fleur's face.

"Of course," Fleur told her.

"Astonishing," Hermione muttered, "it even holds tactilely, absolutely amazing."

"Will one of you please explain what is going on here?" Dean Wilkes asked, edging towards irritation. "I may not be in your class, Professor Granger, but I like to think that I know a glamour when I see one. There is no hint of dazzle at the edges, and this room is quite bright. Also I should like to know why, if it is true, that you came to a job interview under a glamour. I must say that that does not sit very well with me."

"I understand, and I apologize for upsetting you both," Fleur told her, "if I had known that Hermione was to be here I would not have done it. I did it for two reasons: first, as I am interviewing for Experimental Charms professor, I thought it well to demonstrate my work and ability, next, I did not want my appearance to influence your decision."

"I can assure you, Professor, that your appearance would not have influenced my decision in any way," Dean Wilkes countered, slightly offended.

"Yes, it would," Hermione corrected. "Trust me."

"I cannot agree, and in any case it is moot since Professor Delacour has decided to come in disguise, and you'll forgive me if I retain my doubts on the subject."

Dean Wilkes was losing patience, and both Fleur and Hermione could sense it.

"May I?" Fleur asked, slowly reaching for her wand. Hermione nodded, and Fleur gave her wand a small flick. The air around her shimmered, and-

"Oh!" exclaimed Dean Wilkes as her chin bounced off her chest.

"I told you," Hermione stated, "it's wonderful to see you again, Fleur." The two friends embraced briefly. Dean Wilkes took her seat.

"I apologize, Dean Wilkes," Fleur began, "and I quite understand if you wish to cancel the interview. Perhaps I erred by casting the glamour before we met."

"Well, I won't pretend I wasn't a bit taken aback, but I cannot deny that it was the most convincing glamour I have ever seen. Reluctantly, I also admit that I can see your other concern, though I would like to think that I could get past it. Professor Granger, are you satisfied that this woman is who she purports to be?"

"I am, Dean. This is indeed Fleur Isabelle Delacour, charms professor of Beauxbatons," Hermione declared.

"Well then, let's get started shall we?" Dean Wilkes said briskly.

xxxx

"Dean Wilkes was most impressed, Fleur. I could tell," Hermione assured her friend as they toured the greenhouses.

"I don't think she will forgive the insult of the glamour," Fleur said with a shrug. "These orchids are fabulous though, more than worth the trip. You have a lovely tan Hermione; I trust you are using the proper potions. I take it there is a beach here?"

"Indeed there is, the institute owns a small private beach, would you like to see it?"

"Yes, thank you." Hermione took hold of Fleur's shoulder and Apparated them to the beach.

Fleur took a deep breath of the ocean air and let it out slowly.

"Beautiful," she said softly.

"It is," agreed Hermione, "I've only seen one other to compare to it, a little island called St. Catherine's"

"St. Catherine's! You know it?" Fleur gasped.

"Yes, I spent a month there making up my mind to leave England. I was almost dead broke when I left, but it was the best money I ever spent," Hermione told her. "You're familiar with it?"

"Indeed, my family spent summers there until the death of my parents. The house there is all that Gabrielle and I have from them."

"Oh, how marvelous! The house I mean. I suppose you and Gabrielle will be continuing the tradition then?"

"Alas, c'est ne pas possible," Fleur said sadly, "Gabrielle cannot bear the place since Papa's suicide, and I have to rent the house in order to keep it. It is quite expensive, and I can only afford one week a year there. But that is much better than nothing, and Gabrielle will heal in time. It cannot be what it was, but it will be something new."

"St. Catherine's is a small island," Hermione said slowly, "there can't be many houses available for rent there."

"No, very few, that is one reason property is so expensive there," Fleur agreed.

"Would you come with me to my house, Fleur? I want you to see something."

"Of course," Fleur agreed, clasping Hermione's hand.

"A charming place," Fleur complimented, "completely fitting for the setting."

"It is nice, isn't it," Hermione replied. "If you come here, yours would be nearly identical. In fact, we would be neighbors. Now let me show you something… here." She handed Fleur the lease agreement that Mrs. Staunton had sent. "Do you recognize the address?"

"But of course, this is my house! Forgive me for asking, but do they pay you enough to rent this for two months?"

"No, the pay here is generous, but this is still a school. One of the trustees did this because I made her son toe the line. I should mention that the institute has a _very_ good endowment," Hermione confided.

"That is good to hear, I wish I had not bungled the interview. Now then, let me tell you about the house…"


	6. Chapter 6

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter Six of 28

Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured

Rating: PG13

Summary: Plans are plans, not reality

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant

Word Count: 1180

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

"Not Fate"

Chapter Six

"Professor Delacour, I am pleased to say that we would be honored to have you on our faculty. You would head the Charms department, here is our offer," she handed Fleur a sheet of paper. Fleur studied it carefully, her face betraying nothing. Hermione fidgeted in her chair.

"Dean Wilkes, I am truly flattered by your offer, but I must regretfully decline," Fleur said slowly.

_"Why?_" Hermione cried. "Please excuse me," she said quickly.

"Is it the money? I could perhaps –" Fleur raised her hand and Dean Wilkes fell silent.

"No, nothing like that, I assure you. Your offer is most generous. Please believe me when I say that I truly regret not being able to accept. Professionally, this is a singular opportunity. I am quite aware that I may

not receive a chance like this again," Fleur assured her.

"I see, well, I am truly disappointed Professor Delacour. I so looked forward to working with you," Wilkes told her.

"Please call me Fleur, as I am not to be under you, there is no reason for us to remain formal," Fleur entreated.

Hermione coughed, Dean Wilkes flushed red, and Fleur gave no sign that she had noticed anything.

"Very well, Fleur; please do me the honor of calling me Linda, then."

"My pleasure, Linda. If you do not mind, I would like to explain my decision," Fleur asked.

"I certainly do not mind at all. Frankly, I would love to know why," admitted Linda.

"You see, the reason I am leaving Beauxbatons is to make a change in my life, a drastic change. I need to get completely away from what is familiar to me, to give myself the chance to become who I truly am, and not who I am expected to be."

"I understand that," Hermione said, "but what is familiar about the Institute?"

"Two things," Fleur began, "the beach, it is beautiful, but it reminds me too much of my beloved St. Catherine's. Were I to live here I could not forebear going, but it would take my mind into the past, and my heart with it." Fleur fell silent.

"What is the other thing?" Hermione asked softly.

"You," Fleur answered her. Hermione felt dizzy.

"Me? But why? Have I done something wrong? Have I offended you in some way?" Hermione's eyes filled with tears.

"No, no, no, my dear friend, nothing like that! Nothing at all like that… I – you," Fleur paused to wipe her own eyes; Linda Wilkes stared raptly at them both.

"When I am with you, I remember the good times after the war, the happy times when we were all together at the Burrow, before the Weasleys hated me." Hermione made as if to protest, but Fleur stopped her. "There is no point in denying it, they hate me. For that matter most of them are not too fond of you any longer, although I believe that Arthur secretly thinks you are better off without Ron. But it is not just the Weasleys; I can live without them well enough. It brings back all of it, does it not do the same for you, for us to be together?"

It did not. For Hermione, being with Fleur in these circumstances filled her with hope for the future, not sadness for the past. She had already been thinking of things to do with Fleur, places to go, projects they could work on together. But even she was surprised at the depth of her disappointment.

"No, I have to say that it doesn't, but I surely respect your feelings, Fleur. I suppose that Bill is harder to get over than Ronald," Hermione answered.

"I hope that I have not hurt you, Hermione, I truly care for you, and I treasure your friendship, I am just so fragile right now…"

"There has to be a solution to this," Dean Wilkes said earnestly, "I owe it to my school not to let you get away, Fleur. Someday I shall be obliged to call you Professor Delacour; I warn you that I will not give up."

"Please don't," Fleur requested, "I would welcome a solution."

"How about this for a start, then? We have a visiting professor program; let me sign you up for that. You would conduct a two-week seminar each term. The exact topic will be at your discretion, and I'll work out the details with whatever school is lucky enough to secure your services. I am going to get your name in my directory if I have to forge it." Fleur smiled, and Linda Wilkes shifted in her seat.

"As for a more permanent position, until you come here full time, I mean," Dean Wilkes clarified, "you want an environment completely different from what you are accustomed to, correct?"

"Yes, I need that, I think."

"Well I've got just the place. Washington Magical Development, it's in the pacific northwest of the United States, buried deep in a forest. They are engaged in very advanced charms work there, but I know they haven't come up with a glamour to match yours, and they will be thrilled to have you. I know the dean personally; he's a good man to work with."

"A forest? Beauxbatons has a forest on the grounds," Fleur told her.

"Not like this one it doesn't," promised Dean Wilkes. "It gets really cold there in the winter, I have to tell you, but the forest keeps off the worst of the winds, and the magic does the rest. It's small, less than half our size, and their endowment can't match ours so they can't pay you as much. I'll try and make up for that with your time here, though. Shall I call Robert?"

"I am not familiar with this place," Fleur admitted.

"I am," Hermione assured her, "if I had not fallen utterly in love with St. Catherine's, I might have gone there. It's first rate, truly. I kind of figured it would be many years before I could afford St. Catherine's again, and I am bloody tired of the cold and the dark and the sodding rain. Hawaii was as close as I could come."

"It rains here," Linda pointed out.

"Briefly, but the sun shines while it does, and afterwards the flowers explode. It's not the same," Hermione promised.

"So Fleur, will you talk to them? I will add my enthusiastic recommendation to that of Madame Maxime, and I have no doubt that they will offer you a position. And selfishly," she added with a sly smile, "we do have a formal arrangement with them. They are a brother institution, so to speak."

"Are they all male?" Fleur asked, concern plain on her face.

"Almost exclusively, but not by policy," Linda explained. "But if you are looking for a husband, that isn't the place. I say with great affection that that is the biggest collection of magical queers in the world."

"She's right you know," Hermione promised.

"Please make me an appointment, Linda," Fleur requested, and the smile that lit her face made a tear run down Linda's leg.


	7. Chapter 7

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter Seven of 28

Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured

Rating: PG13

Summary: Realization, loss, and memories

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant

Word Count:

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

"Not Fate"

Chapter Seven

"Will you stay for a few days, Fleur?" Hermione asked when they had left the office. "I have a lovely guest room."

"I would love to," Fleur agreed gladly. "I thank you and your dean for your efforts on my behalf; I hope that I will like Washington. Truly, I want to be associated with this place. I am just…"

"I understand, Fleur," Hermione promised, "I know what it is to need a drastic change. I'm just glad it's not me personally that causes you a problem."

"No, not that, my friend, never that! I – I do not know how to say this…" Hermione remained silent as they walked. "I do not think that I would have gotten through the war without you. When Harry brought you to my home, injured, scared, having endured I cannot think what at the hands of that monstrous bitch – you were so brave. So young, and yet so brave – I – you are my hero, Hermione. You gave me the strength to persevere; I will always love you for that." Hermione's heart gave a violent lurch before settling down to race in earnest.

"I hardly know what to say to that," she admitted.

"Harry would have failed without you, I know this. He is indeed brave and noble, but without you to guide him… we would all be slaves now." Fleur stopped and stared earnestly into Hermione's eyes. "You are my inspiration, Hermione Granger."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered. The ashes of her heart were stirred, and a warm wind began to sweep the dead cinders from the faintly glowing coals.

"Now then my friend," Fleur said brightly, "let us plan our time together, shall we?" She took Hermione by the hand and walked happily down the path, while Hermione's heart thundered in her chest and her mind spun like a whirlpool.

Four days. For four nearly perfect days Hermione enjoyed Fleur's company in paradise. They lay in the sun on the beach. They stayed up late drinking outrageous tropical concoctions and laughing. Fleur cooked glorious meals for them. Hermione assigned projects to her students that kept her class time to a minimum, and felt not the least bit of guilt about it.

But it wasn't all perfect, not quite.

They were on the beach, and Hermione and Fleur were comfortably settled in the sun when a shadow fell across them.

"Professor Granger! How nice to see you relaxing," Roger Staunton said loudly, shattering the serenity. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your beautiful friend?"

Fleur felt Hermione stiffen beside her, and she had a feeling that she knew who this was.

"Shouldn't you be studying, Mr. Staunton?" Hermione asked without opening her eyes. "There is an examination Monday."

"I will Professor; I'm just taking a short break in the sun. Now, about your friend…"

Fleur raised her head slowly, and pulled down her sunglasses with a fingertip.

"I am Professor Delacour," she said clearly, "and you are blocking the sun, little boy. Go and study, and perhaps by the time you grow up you will have learned how to leave people in peace." She settled her glasses back in place and lay her head back down. Staunton stood for a moment, stunned, and then left without a word.

Hermione reached for Fleur's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"You're _my_ hero, Fleur," she whispered.

xxxx

"Your interview is set for Monday at 10 AM, Fleur," Dean Wilkes told her. "I sent your resume and recommendations to Robert, Dean Clark, that is. I've never heard a man that big 'squee', before. Don't tell him I told you that, and don't sell him short, he's brilliant, and that Charms program is the most advanced one on this side of the world, if not all of it. You wanted different, and that place is the very definition of it. I hesitate to ask, and please don't be insulted, but Robert is a good friend of mine. Are you comfortable around homosexuals?"

Fleur shrugged. "I am not sure that the term is valid," she said frankly. "People are by nature sexual beings. What matters the body? Male, female, mix or match, we all fit together well enough, don't you think so? Why do we need to categorize attraction? It is the feeling, the passion, the love, that matters. Have no fear; I shall not offend your friend."

Linda Wilkes swallowed heavily.

"Just so, I've never heard it put quite so well, though. I thank you for coming here, Fleur, I have enjoyed making your acquaintance, and I look forward to your seminar next term."

"You are most welcome, Linda, but it is I who should be thanking you, and I do. I will try and conduct an interesting seminar for you, whether or not I end up teaching in Washington." Fleur bowed and left the office. Linda sat in her chair and breathed deeply.

xxxx

"I hate to go," Fleur told Hermione.

"Then don't. Stay. Teach here," Hermione suggested hopefully.

"Alas, I cannot, I have healing to do, and pieces of myself to find. But I have enjoyed my time with you more than anything in years, Hermione. Thank you for being my friend. May I stay with you during the seminar next term?" Fleur asked her.

"Just you dare try and stay elsewhere," Hermione scolded, "you can't get me hooked on your cooking and then leave me forever you know."

"Fair enough," Fleur agreed, laughing. Hermione thought that Fleur's laugh was quite the loveliest sound she had ever heard.

"One thing, Fleur," Hermione said hesitantly.

"Yes?" Fleur responded. Hermione handed Fleur an envelope.

"The lease on your house, I want you to go. It's – it's all I have to give you, and I want you to have it." Fleur's eyes overflowed.

"Hermione, my sweet, that is so like you. But I cannot do this, I have had years there, and I will in time have it back. Who knows when you will get the chance again? Go, and enjoy, and think of me while you are there." She pressed the envelope back into Hermione's hands.

"Then come and stay with me," Hermione pleaded, "even if you take the job in Washington you'll be off then. The terms are the same there as here, please say that you'll come."

"Perhaps," Fleur said slowly, "of course I cannot make firm plans just now…"

"I don't care. Just show up, come whenever you can, stay as long as you like." Hermione seemed to realize that she was sounding a bit desperate, and she composed herself and gave Fleur her very best smile. "Act like it's your house, why don't you?"

She was rewarded with the laughter that she so loved.

"D'accord, my friend. I shall see you on St. Catherine's." So saying she kissed Hermione on the cheek and departed for the floo.

Thankful that it was a Saturday, Hermione went into her bedroom and pulled the shades to block out the fading light. She went to her music collection and selected an album by John Denver, and skipped to a particular track.

It was an old song, written in the early 1960's by Randy Sparks for a group called "The New Christy Minstrels". Hermione had heard the song on a PBS special and fallen in love with it. Denver's cover of the song was quite simple and very beautiful, a lone guitar and a single voice, and it suited her mood. She set the song to loop, lay down on her bed, and listened until she cried herself to sleep.

_Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,  
>I'll taste your strawberries I'll drink your sweet wine.<br>A million tomorrows shall all pass away,  
>Ere I forget all the joy that is mine - today.<em>

_I'll be a dandy and I'll be a rover,  
>You'll know who I am by the songs that I sing.<br>I'll feast at your table and I'll lie in your clover,  
>Who cares what tomorrow shall bring?<em>

_Today, while the blossoms still cling to the vine,  
>I'll taste your strawberries I'll drink your sweet wine.<br>A million tomorrows shall all pass away,  
>Ere I forget all the joy that is mine - today.<em>

_I can't be contented with yesterday's glory,  
>I can't live on promises winter to spring.<br>Today is my moment, and now is my story,  
>I'll laugh and I'll cry and I'll sing…<em>

_Today while the blossoms still cling to the vine,  
>I'll taste your strawberries I'll drink your sweet wine.<br>A million tomorrows shall all pass away,  
>Ere I forget - all the joy that is mine - today...<em>

For Hermione, today was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter Eight of 28

Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured

Rating: PG13

Summary: End of term

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant

Word Count: 1530

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

"Not Fate"

Chapter Eight

"Well, I did the best I could," Dean Wilkes told Hermione when she arrived in the dean's office Sunday evening. "She didn't get away completely, at any rate. Jesus Christ, that was an amazing glamour!"

Hermione nodded, and sipped her drink

"And since she's not really on staff, and it's just you and me here… I never in my life even _dreamed_ that a human being could be so beautiful."

"Well, strictly speaking, I suppose she's not. Human, exactly," Hermione told her.

"Huh?"

"Well, her grandmother is a Veela, and they are human, enough to breed with us mere mortals in any case. But they aren't what you'd call off-the-rack," Hermione explained.

"Oh. Yeah, I've read about them. Damn."

"Indeed," Hermione agreed. "And her looks are the least of her."

_"Damn,"_ repeated Wilkes. "So, you've been naked with her?" she asked casually.

"Face to face and totally bare-arsed," Hermione comfirmed.

"Damn…"

"Unfortunately we were both polyjuiced into copies of a teenaged boy at the time," Hermione explained, turning up her drink.

"Oh. Well damn." Linda tossed off her own drink, and they sat for a moment in silence.

"I'm in love with her," Hermione admitted softly. "Utterly, completely, hopelessly, truly, madly, deeply, head-over-heels in love with her. And she's gone."

"Isn't this a bit sudden?" Linda suggested carefully. "I can certainly understand, she's brilliant, and kind, and impossibly beautiful, and you spent several days with her in a romantic setting. But love? We're not teenagers anymore, Hermione."

"Indeed not," Hermione agreed, "but it's not sudden at all, it's just that only now have I been free to acknowledge it, if only to myself. There were always people and circumstances between us before. But now, now that we are both on our own - I fell in love with Fleur Delacour a long time ago, and now I know myself well enough to accept it."

"Damn," Wilkes reiterated, and she filled both their glasses.

"Damn." They agreed as they raised their glasses.

xxxx

"Fleur, this work is astounding!" Robert Clark gushed.

Linda Wilkes had been right; Washington was different in all ways from anywhere she had ever been. The forest – "forest" was too poor a word for it. Trees that seemed they could shade the Eiffel Tower. Enormous silent sentinels that bore testimony to times long past: Fleur wandered among them for hours, and felt closer to her magic than she ever had.

They had made her an offer on the spot, and she had started instantly, even though the term was already under way. Fleur sent a letter to a delighted Olympe requesting some of her things, and another to Hermione to give her the news.

It was as if chains that had been binding her skill and her power had been struck from her limbs, she blossomed, and she came to see that her magic was a projection of her spirit, and not something that merely inhabited her. The staff and students practically worshipped her, and she had a similar regard for them.

She was home.

"Thank you Robert, but I could not have done it without everyone else. We are a team here, n'est ce pas?"

"We sure are, honey," Robert agreed. "I swear I don't know how you do it, but you get lovelier every day."

This was one of the ways that this place was different, everyone, from the dean to the service elves, went by first names. Fleur would never have believed that such an arrangement would work, but it did here. These people were nearly devoid of ego, insofar as the work went at any rate. Everyone listened to everyone else, and nobody's ideas were dismissed out of hand. No one was judged on their appearance, but they were appreciated for it.

People were open in their praise, their criticism, and their admiration. Fleur received compliments on her beauty regularly, but rather than being annoyed by them as she had been in the past, she appreciated them and returned them when she was moved to, perhaps because she received even more praise for her work. She felt safe, and valued, and the pain of the preceding years faded away under the shadows of the great trees.

"It is the climate," Fleur told him, "it keeps the skin from drying out."

"Yours, maybe," Robert said ruefully, "my elbows look like alligator hide."

Fleur was one of the few females at WMD, as the inmates of this congenial asylum ironically labeled it. Fleur had never been in a less destructive place. Two of her female colleagues were a couple, but they were discreet in their affections, it never interfered with anything, and nobody gave a damn, figuring that it was their business. Lilac, a striking researcher from China, had expressed a romantic interest in Fleur, and had graciously accepted friendship instead when Fleur did not return this interest. She had not been offended, and had not made Fleur feel guilty about it.

The term absolutely flew by, and Fleur felt as if she had hardly unpacked before it was over.

WMD was never truly idle, of course, as it was a research facility as well as an educational one. Fleur's primary duties were as an instructor, but she assisted several of the researchers when she had the time. Term had been over for two weeks when Robert tapped her on the shoulder.

"Time to go, girlfriend," he said, "one of the few rules I have is that each staff member has to get the hell out of here for at least a month during the summer break. Even the pure researchers, and as much as you do in that regard, you're not one of the lab rats. Go somewhere and recharge the batteries."

"Really, Robert, this place is restful enough, I am hardly stressed here," Fleur protested.

"Don't kid yourself sweetheart, you've done a ton of work. This place is seductive; it's fun, and it seems peaceful, but experience has shown that things go much better when we take a nice long break on a regular basis. And I'm still the boss, despite being devilishly handsome and dashing. Beat it. Go have fun, and if you show up back here sooner than a week before next term begins I'll turn you into a wood nymph, it wouldn't take much. And don't forget that you have to conduct that seminar in Hawaii a month after start of term. Linda will castrate me if you miss it."

"Well, we cannot have that," Fleur admitted, "Jonathon would kill me if you were damaged on my account. I shall depart posthaste." Fleur pecked his cheek and headed to her small cottage to pack.

"Linda, I owe you one for her," Clark said aloud as he watched Fleur walk away, "smartest person I ever met."

That was another reason Fleur liked it there.

xxxx

For Hermione, the term had not moved so fast. She loved her job, her school, and the beach. She liked her students, even Roger, although he had not reformed overnight. He had periodically tested her limits, but as he had found them in precisely the same place every time, he eventually gave in and buckled down. His final essay was one of the best ones turned in.

But her last thoughts at night, and her first thoughts on waking, were of Fleur, and by now Fleur's scent had faded from the pillow that Hermione held when she slept.

Inez Staunton, however, was thrilled with the term, and with Hermione. And so was Dean Wilkes.

"Hermione, you are a wonder. Inez Staunton has committed to fund the visiting professor program in perpetuity. If I fire you will you move in with me?" she asked at their now traditional evening talk session.

"No. I shall depart in high dudgeon, and you shall never see me again!"

"Damn. Oh well, I guess I'll take what I can get," Linda said by way of a toast.

"We all do that," agreed Hermione.

"Besides," Linda admitted, "Staunton would have me killed if I canned you. She actually believes that kid of hers might amount to something one day now."

"Miracles happen," Hermione granted, "and that would qualify as one."

"That's a beautiful locket," Linda commented, "is it new?"

"Yes, I saw it and fell in love with it. A gift from me to me," Hermione explained.

"May I hold it?"

"Surely, just a moment," Hermione set her glass down, unclasped the chain, and handed the locket to Linda.

"Exquisite," she breathed, "and so heavy. Jesus, Hermione, this must have cost a ton."

"Ton and a half, actually, but thanks to Inez Staunton I had some extra vacation money. It's extravagant, but I needed something worthy of –" she broke off abruptly, and Linda glanced up at her. Hermione's face was flushed.

Before she could form a question, Linda's caressing hands had tripped the catch, and the locket sprang open.

Inside was a picture of Fleur Delacour in the greenhouse, surrounded by orchids.

Linda said nothing, but closed the locket and replaced it around Hermione's neck, tucking it safely between her breasts. She sat down beside Hermione and pulled her into a hug, and then held her in silence. Linda was that kind of a friend.

That was another reason Hermione liked it there.


	9. Chapter 9

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter Nine of 28

Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured

Rating: R

Summary: Dreams almost come true sometimes

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant

Word Count: 1400

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

"Not Fate"

Chapter Nine

For two weeks Hermione had been on St. Catherine's, living in Fleur's house, and sleeping in what she fancied was Fleur's bed. There was no sign of Fleur in the house, however, unless it was in the elegant simplicity of the furnishings, and Hermione thought that was probably actually Fleur's mother's doing. The house was spotless when she arrived, and basic supplies were in the kitchen and baths. The responsible agency was doing a good job, as well they should, for the rental fee was quite high. Hermione knew that she could likely not afford even a week in this house on what she made, even if they had rented it by the week, which they did not.

She spent the first few days minutely inspecting every drawer and cubby, looking for something that would say 'Fleur' to her. Alas, Fleur had thoroughly cleared the house of personal items. There were a few light spots on the walls, and Hermione filled them with pictures of Fleur in her mind's eye. It eventually dawned on her that she was obsessing, and so she took herself in hand and began enjoying the island, and renewing her acquaintance with the resort staff, many of whom recalled her fondly.

It felt dangerously like home.

Hermione idly contemplated seducing and ensnaring Roger Staunton, so that she might be able to afford the place. But it then occurred to her that she might actually succeed, and so she abandoned that line of thought.

There were not actually _droves_ of young men lusting after her body, but there were a few. But even the thickest of them soon saw that she had less than no interest in them, and word got around about the "ice queen". Hermione didn't notice. There was also a woman who made her interest plain. She was older than Hermione, wealthy and confident, and really quite attractive. Hermione accepted an invitation to lunch, but was completely oblivious to the gentle overtures that Renee made to her.

_"This one has given her heart to someone,"_ Renee decided, and she backed off to a casual friendship. Renee had even more class than she had money.

Whenever she returned to the house, Hermione's pulse would race and her palms would sweat. Would Fleur be there? Would there be a message announcing her arrival? There never was, and after two weeks had passed Hermione stopped expecting it.

She and Fleur had exchanged a few letters during term, sharing news and the like. But they were both extremely busy and caught up in their work, and the missives were brief and largely superficial. Hermione could never have written the things that she wanted to tell Fleur in any case. She heaved a huge mental sigh, and surrendered herself to the healing magic of the island.

She used a lot of flobberworm potion.

xxxx

"Lonely, sweetheart?" a rough voice asked as a shadow fell across Hermione's recumbent form. Hermione neither moved nor opened her eyes.

"Go away, little boy," she said in as bored a tone as she could muster, "you're blocking the sun."

"Is that any way to greet a friend?" replied the voice that filled her dreams.

"Fleur!" she screamed in delight, and she leapt to her feet and threw her arms around Fleur, joy simply bursting from her.

"It is so good to see you," Fleur said as she returned the hug.

Hermione felt Fleur's soft lips on her cheek; she smelled the familiar scent that Fleur always wore. Her entire being sang with happiness, and then, incredibly, as the hug loosened a bit she felt a warm and oh-so-soft hand cup her right breast. Her head fell back and a soft sound escaped her lips.

"Excuse me please, Hermione," Fleur said with laughter in her voice. "One of your girls had escaped confinement. You must not give the locals coronaries; they are not used to such beauty. Had I known that I would receive so exuberant a welcome, I would have come sooner."

Hermione felt as if she had been dunked in ice water. Fleur had merely been looking out for her modesty, the touch as impersonal to her as that of a doctor to a patient. Hermione wondered if Fleur had even noticed how the nipple had hardened instantly at her touch.

"Oops," Hermione managed to say, as casually as she could. "No big deal really, lots of women go topless around here."

"True, but they are not the fabulous Hermione Granger!" Fleur exclaimed.

Hermione would have given anything at all to believe that Fleur meant that seriously, but all she saw on that perfect face was genuine happiness at meeting a friend.

_"I'll take what I can get,"_ Hermione told herself, _"and I can't let her see how this hurts."_

"Pish," Hermione said as she mastered her emotions, "you just wanted to cop a feel. Slim pickings up in the woods?"

"Well, there is this lovely Chinese woman…" Fleur purred, "but I am too busy there for romance. The work is quite fulfilling, I must thank Linda for suggesting it. Hermione, you have to come and see WMD, the forest, those massive trees – magic is in the very air!"

_"It is now,"_ Hermione thought, and because she simply could not help it, she hugged Fleur again and kissed her on the cheek, resolutely resisting the lure of her lips. "I've missed you," she murmured.

"And I have missed you, my friend. How do you like the house?"

"It's glorious, I will insist on an extravagant rise in pay, so that I may come here regularly."

"That seems reasonable to me," Fleur agreed, "now then, we need to go shopping. Really, Hermione, there is nothing in the kitchen."

"I'm not much of a cook, but if I'd known you were coming I would have stocked up."

"I told you I would come," Fleur protested. Hermione shrugged. "No matter, I am here now, and we shall go shopping, and I shall cook for you marvelous things!"

Hermione allowed herself to be swept away, she really had no choice in the matter, she was helpless.

xxxx

"God, Fleur, that was wonderful!" Hermione said sincerely as she finished her dessert. "You will make me fat."

"There is no harm in a little cushioning," Fleur told her, "we will both doubtless work it off when the term starts. But here we shall be decadent in the extreme! Our first vacation together!"

Hermione knew that that statement didn't mean the same thing to Fleur that it did to her, but it sounded wonderful, nonetheless.

"Likely the last one too, at least here. I suppose I could go back to my plan to seduce Roger Staunton," Hermione said casually. Had she imagined that a look of dismay had flitted across Fleur's face?

"Surely things are not that desperate," Fleur persuaded, "we can make do with Hawaii, it is not exactly a slum, is it? And you must come to my forest."

_"I imagined it,"_ Hermione admitted.

"We shall save the washing-up for the morning; I am weary from travel, and sleepy from too much food. As you seem to have commandeered my bed, I shall take Gabrielle's," Fleur said, displaying that glorious smile.

"We can switch if you like," Hermione offered hastily.

"No need, the rooms are the same, as are the beds," Fleur said carelessly. "Fortunately, mother replaced all of the furniture shortly before she died, so it will last a long time. If the renters don't destroy it, that is." A hint of pain crept into her voice, and Hermione ached for her.

"Very well then," Hermione agreed as she rose from the table. "I'm glad you're here, Fleur," she said, "the house misses you, I can tell." Hermione went to her room, leaving Fleur to find her own way to bed. It was her house, after all.

The rooms might have been identical to Fleur, but not to Hermione. She was thrilled that she had been right, that this had been Fleur's room. Fleur's bed. Fleur had slept here, laid in this very place, her body warming this very spot.

Hermione felt her own body warming, and she thought back to the meeting on the beach. She recalled her joy at seeing Fleur. And she remembered the soft warm hand on her breast, and she wept silently as she substituted her own hand as she caressed herself and surrendered to her body's need.


	10. Chapter 10

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter Ten of 28

Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured

Rating: R

Summary: Dream a little dream of…

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant, a bit of girlsex (surprise!)

Word Count: 1600

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

"Not Fate"

Chapter Ten

Time passed swiftly for Fleur and Hermione, as time always does when one is happy. They soon fell into a comfortable routine, working together on Fleur's seminar or their upcoming term plans, collaborating on meals and housework, and in general getting along very well indeed. They sometimes went all day without exchanging more than a few words, but it was never awkward. Hermione had been concerned that daily contact with Fleur would prove painful, but the opposite was true. She took so much joy in simply being with her and sharing the simple things of living with her that she was happy and usually fulfilled.

Hermione's love for Fleur deepened, even as she became more convinced than ever that Fleur only saw her as a friend. That was no small thing Hermione acknowledged, for real friends were much harder to find than lovers. A fact brought home to them fairly often as one or the other and sometimes both of them were approached by hopeful prospective partners.

They had perfected their mutually supportive means of rejecting these advances, much to Hermione's delight and relief. She knew full well that if Fleur took someone to her bed that she would fall completely apart. The general opinion came to be that the two women staying in the lovely house on the little hill were a couple. Hermione knew this, and delighted in it, and perhaps against her best interests she allowed herself to fall into the same way of thinking.

It was hard not to, Fleur's pleasure at being with Hermione was obvious, they touched often, tidying one another's hair, arranging clothing, or simply holding hands as they strolled the beach. It was only alone in her bed at night that Hermione felt any lack. But now she had any number of things that smelled like Fleur, and she had even stopped feeling awkward about burying her face in the sweater that Fleur had borrowed from her as she made solitary love in the privacy of her bed when the need was on her.

Not perfect, but more than she had hoped for, realistically, and more than she had ever had, she realized now.

"Only two weeks left," Hermione said with a touch of gloom over breakfast.

"Then we must make the most of them," Fleur replied decisively. "Truly, Hermione, this has been the best month I can remember. Being with you is a balm to my spirit, I- I must try and explain."

Hermione sat silent, waiting, trying not to hope too much.

"You expect nothing of me, good or bad. You do not judge, you do not assume, you do not _presume_. You care for me and allow me to care for you without pressing for more."

Hermione choked back a sob at that confirmation of the limits of their relationship.

"I have never experienced a relationship like ours; you are as dear to me as my sister."

_"Sister, oh God, there it is,"_ Hermione thought. Fortunately the tears that welled up in Hermione's eyes were matched by those in Fleur's. It was, after all, quite an emotional moment.

"Thank you, Hermione my dearest friend. You are healing my heart." Fleur reached across the table and took one of Hermione's hands in both of hers, pressing the palm to her face and then kissing it tenderly. "Now then, I think we should go for a swim to lighten the mood a bit, n'est ce pas?"

"A marvelous idea," Hermione said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. _"A little more salt water won't harm the sea,"_ she thought.

But she could not long be sad in Fleur's company, and her laughter was genuine when Fleur neatly dunked her in the warm water. The specter of being separated from Fleur was looming, but she resolutely ignored it.

She did however begin listening to a certain song at night, using the earbuds so as not to disturb Fleur. She had to prepare. She was grateful for the durability of the little mp3 player, for she suspected that even a cd would wear out eventually. Today, however, was not yet gone; she had nearly two weeks of today left.

xxxx

"Would you mind if Gabrielle joined us?" Fleur asked Hermione.

"Of course not, this is her house, Fleur."

"But it is your time here. Gabrielle thinks that with you here, perhaps things will be different enough that she will not be so sad. We have never before been here with anyone other than one or both of our parents, you see. And Gabrielle likes you very much," she explained.

"Certainly, I'd love to see her again; I don't think I've seen her since my lamentable wedding."

Hermione was of course torn, it meant that her time alone with Fleur was ending sooner, but perhaps it would be a good thing, something to help wean her before she had to leave Fleur altogether.

"Thank you, I shall let her know it is all right to come," Fleur paused on her way to the fireplace and kissed Hermione's forehead. "You are utterly marvelous; I love you, my dearest friend."

Once again Hermione took what she could get, but it stung a bit.

Gabrielle's arrival did indeed prove distracting; the younger Delacour was a fountain of energy and enthusiasm. She insisted on showing Hermione her secret and special places on the island, and her joy in sharing them proved impossible to resist. Hermione found herself enjoying her company quite a bit, even though she missed the quiet times with Fleur.

Sometimes they went out all together, sometimes Fleur and Gabrielle went out, or Gabrielle and Hermione. Rarely were Hermione and Fleur alone that last week, and that was proving beneficial for Hermione.

Perhaps the fact that the sisters were so alike in appearance helped. The biggest difference physically was that Gabrielle's hair was cut quite short. But her personality was completely different. Gabrielle was an enormous amount of fun, fun of the rowdy sort, usually.

She was also very effective in discouraging unwanted attention, and after the second would-be boyfriend had slunk away, they were no longer bothered.

"Gabrielle much prefers women," Fleur confided during one of their rare times alone together, "I am a little dismayed by how large a swath she has cut. But it is in the nature of Veela, we are a passionate race, I am afraid."

_"I wish,"_ Hermione thought, _"what's wrong with me, then?"_

But in the next instant Fleur embraced her and kissed her cheek exuberantly.

"Thank you for being so nice to her, I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to see her enjoying this place again. I feared that she would never return."

"It's not difficult," Hermione told her when she had composed herself, "I like her."

"We are a family now, non?" Fleur exclaimed joyfully.

"We surely are," Hermione agreed. "Let's go for a swim, it's our last chance. My time is up tomorrow."

"Bon," Fleur said as she rose from the couch, "I must have this last opportunity to dunk you and get you all wet!"

_"Easily done,"_ Hermione thought as she too rose and went to change.

Not even the knowledge that she had to leave the next day could put a damper on their fun, though; they nearly drowned each other several times, and Fleur was so giddy with joy that she kissed Hermione right on the lips, albeit briefly.

Hermione felt as if she had been struck by lightning.

Gabrielle joined them, and it was a very happy trio that headed back to the house to rinse off before dinner.

Fleur and Gabrielle had fixed many of their favorite dishes, and Hermione used her potions expertise to whip up elaborate tropical drinks that would have done any tiki bar in the world proud. They stayed up late and went to bed tipsy.

But alone in her room, the leaving weighed heavily on Hermione, and she opened her window, set up her mp3 player, and lay down on top of the sheets. The usual wind was absent that night, so Hermione rose and cracked her door ajar, hoping to encourage a breeze. In a few more minutes she was in that place that is neither awake nor asleep, and the song was working its usual bittersweet magic on her as her hands roamed.

She did not feel the weight settle on her bed, and for a moment she was unaware that the hand on her breast was not her own. The dream was better than ever, she thought, and then Fleur's familiar and beloved scent washed over her. The soft hand was replaced by softer lips, and Hermione moaned in ecstasy when her taut nipple was drawn in between them. Her legs opened languidly when the soft hand slid down past her belly, and she whimpered as the delicate fingers softly parted her lips, caressing her easily and fanning the embers to flame.

She fisted her hands in the sheets when the slender finger slipped inside her, and she rose to meet it eagerly, clutching it fiercely within her. It was a night of dreams come true, and her back arched as she panted and begged.

"More," she pleaded, "more," a second finger joined the first, and Hermione squeezed them tightly as she trembled on the verge of orgasm, "harder - harder – yes, oh yes!"

A soft mouth found hers, and at last she had her real kiss, and it was splendid. She eagerly welcomed the tongue into her mouth, and threaded her fingers into the silver hair. The quite short silver hair.

Her eyes snapped open, and she squirmed furiously to get away, winding up against the headboard clutching her pillow to herself and trembling.

"What is wrong? Did I hurt you?" Gabrielle asked in confusion.

"No, I mean…oh, God…" Hermione's voice trailed off, and Gabrielle ghosted from the room.

A/N: Yes, I know this situation is cliché. In any case, it's addressed next chapter.


	11. Chapter 11

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter Eleven of 28

Pairing: none now, Fleur Delacour and Hermione Granger are featured

Rating: R

Summary:A shoe falls

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant

Word Count: 2680

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

A/N: Sorry for the delay, I guess you knowwhat happened.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Eleven

Hermione dragged herself out of bed and pulled on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts and feelings that were impossible to sort out, and her body was every bit as confused. Because she was British, she went and made a cup of tea. She sat numbly at the table and drank it down, heedless of the pain from the heat of it.

Then she stared into the cup at the dregs as if she hoped to read her future there.

How could she have not realized it was Gabrielle? True, she had not expected Gabrielle to climb into her bed, nor had she expected Fleur to. She had merely wanted it with all of her being. And the scent had been indisputably Fleur's.

"Oh God," she whispered as she realized what Gabrielle must have seen her doing. She could not bring herself to blame Gabrielle for accepting what must have looked like an invitation. She was also honest enough to admit that it had been amazing, miles beyond any sexual experience of her life. Perfect, in fact, except for that one detail. How could she not have known? _Had_ she known? Was this another case of taking what she could get? Would Fleur find out? What would she think if she did?

Hermione did not look up when she heard footsteps enter the kitchen; she kept her eyes inside the cup. The mess of tea leaves at the bottom of the cup looked precisely like a mess. Perhaps there was something to reading tea leaves after all. By the sounds, someone else was making a cup of tea, and whoever it was sat down across the table from her.

"Are you all right?" It was Fleur's voice, full of concern. Hermione shook her head mutely.

"Are you injured? Gabrielle is concerned."

_"Great, she went running to big sister,"_ Hermione thought, but she shook her head to deny injury.

"That is good. I apologize, Gabrielle can be – impulsive. You attract her powerfully, and when she saw you, well…"

Hermione pushed the cup aside and lowered her forehead to the table, interlacing her fingers over the back of her head to keep it from flying off.

"Please do not be angry, perhaps she misunderstood, but she felt that you responded to her touch, do you see?"

Hermione snorted. _"Responded"_, like that even _touched_ on her reaction.

"She did respond," Gabrielle insisted from the kitchen doorway.

_"Oh let's call the neighbors, why don't we?"_ Hermione thought. _"I already feel like the punch line to a dirty joke."_

"She was glorious! Magnificent! I have never witnessed such passion! Nevair!" Gabrielle's accent tended to thicken when she was upset. "I can still feel her squeezing my fingers!"

"Will no benevolent God take pity, and strike me dead?" pleaded Hermione, but at least she was talking. Fleur had been afraid that she was in shock, and was still concerned about it.

"Is this correct? You enjoyed her touch?"

Hermione was done talking for a while, she was also far beyond embarrassment, and had left outright mortification several exits back. She did, however, manage to nod her head in an affirmative. Hermione was simply too honest to lie, and she _had_ enjoyed it.

"I told you so," Gabrielle said, "she was-"

A gesture and a severe look from Fleur silenced her; somehow Fleur felt that Hermione had heard enough praise of her sexual magnificence. She was not wrong.

"Then why push her away? Why are you so distraught?" Fleur asked gently.

_"Distraught"_ thought Hermione, _"at least we're creeping up on it."_

"Can you tell me?" Fleur asked again, even more gently.

Hermione unlaced her fingers and picked through the tangled hair on her neck, unclasped the locket, and slid it across the table towards Fleur. She replaced her hands quickly, before her head could escape.

Fleur took up the locket and stared at it, she had no idea how this was supposed to answer the question.

"Yes, it's beautiful," Fleur acknowledged, "but what –"

She stopped speaking, because Hermione's hands were moving again. Hermione extended her arms and placed her hands together as if in prayer, then she swung them as if opening a book. She kept doing it. Fleur looked to Gabrielle in confusion.

"I think she wants you to open it," Gabrielle ventured. Hermione gave her a thumbs up, and then put her hands back on her head. She could almost feel her feet again; at least Fleur didn't seem angry with her.

Fleur opened the locket and saw the picture of herself.

"I remember this! The orchids were so beautiful, but -oh! Oh! I see! I understand! It is because she is my sister! You are afraid that I will disapprove! Hermione my dove, nothing could be further from the truth! I would be overjoyed if Gabrielle found love with you! Nothing could be better!"

Hermione spoke not a word, but began to slowly, rhythmically, and relentlessly bang her head on the table. Fleur turned again to Gabrielle, and Gabrielle came and stood behind her, slipping a potholder in between Hermione's head and the table on the way. She looked at the locket and saw Fleur's picture in it.

"Fleur, tu es bete! Completement bete ! Hermione is not upset because she thought that you would disapprove, she is upset because she thought that I was you! She is in love with you, you ninnyhammer!"

Hermione's left hand shot out, the index finger pointing unerringly at Gabrielle. Slowly she raised her head until her chin was resting on the table, and her eyes found Fleur's. With her right hand she tapped the end of her nose with her index finger. Then she put her face back to the table and resumed holding her head in place.

"In love with me? That cannot be, how could she be in love with me?"

The head pounding resumed.

"I know that she loves me, of course, but _in_ love with me? I would know, you know that I would know, Gabrielle. I am Veela!"

"Imbecile," Gabrielle said, "you are shielding her, aren't you? Stop it."

"Oh." Fleur said softly.

"Cease beating your head on my table, Hermione," Gabrielle ordered. "Let us sort this out. You are a grown woman, as I have good reason to know. You have nothing to be ashamed of, and certainly nothing to be embarrassed about. Quite the contrary, you should be proud, you are –"

"Please stop, Gabrielle," Hermione requested, but she did sit up straight. "I'll be proud later, but right now I have to compose myself enough to go home. My time here is up today. I have to leave in a matter of hours."

"No, you do not. Your lease may be finished, but my week is just starting. We have time to resolve this, and I promise you that no one is leaving this house until we have. I know that you are a great witch, so is Fleur, but I am Ministry Special Forces. Neither of you is going anywhere until I say so. Do you understand?"

Hermione naturally turned her eyes towards Fleur for confirmation, although something told her that Gabrielle was speaking the unvarnished truth.

And then her eyes met Fleur's, and she looked into them truly for the first time. All of her thoughts, all of her feelings for Fleur poured through her eyes into Fleur's, and from there into Fleur's heart. It was unlike Legilimency, for nothing was being taken. Rather, it was being accepted.

"This is true?" Fleur breathed. "You are in love with me?"

"Yes," Hermione answered.

"How long?"

"Years, but I only came to realize it while you were at the institute with me."

"You said nothing, not even here, with all the time we have had alone together. Why not?"

"You love me Fleur, I know that. But you said it yourself, like a sister. I'm glad for that love, I need it, but that is not how I see you."

"Bete, bete, bete," muttered Gabrielle, 'you should have known, Fleur. This is your fault, not mine. If you had not shielded her you would have known, and so I would have known. And I would not have – on further thought, I am glad; I would not have missed that for anything. She is a goddess. But this is still your fault."

"You smelled just like her, and I've never come across that scent anywhere else, and what did you mean, she "shielded" me," Hermione asked, her thirst for knowledge at least momentarily overcoming her mortified state.

"That scent is something mother had made for us," Gabrielle explained, "our body chemistry is similar enough that there is almost no difference, even if you are – close."

"Oh. What about the shielding?"

"It is something Veela do," Fleur began, "you know of course, that Veela are highly sensitive to emotions?"

"Right," Hermione scoffed. That earned her a small smile, and even now that set her heart pounding.

"That is why we shield some people. This sensitivity is a protection for us; it allows us to pick up dangerous feelings, violent urges. Some people react dangerously to the Veela influence. But it can interfere with some relationships. It is normal to have certain – feelings – for a person you care for, and everyone occasionally has idle erotic thoughts about their friends. It is normal and healthy, and usually harmless, but it can be uncomfortable for us. How would you have felt, if, for instance, when we were walking through the greenhouse you had "heard" me wondering what your breasts would feel like?"

"Ready," Hermione said instantly.

"Perhaps the wrong example, but do you see my point?" Hermione admitted that she did. "I shielded you long ago, and never took it off. But that means that I trust you completely, I would never spend time alone with someone I had shielded if I did not trust them with my life."

"But it doesn't mean that you love me like I love you, does it?" Hermione asked.

"No, but neither does it mean that I do not. I am overwhelmed; this is a very big, very important thing between us."

"I certainly agree there," Hermione assured her.

"I will need time, Hermione. Even if I had known of your true feelings back in Hawaii, I would still need time. I have made progress, but I still have more work to do on me before I am fit to commit to another. And I know that I love you too much to treat this lightly. May I have some time?"

"I want to give you my soul, Fleur," Hermione told her, "I can surely give you some time."

"And what of me?" Gabrielle demanded. "Do neither of you care about _my_ feelings?"

"Are you in love with her, Gabrielle?" Fleur asked calmly.

"I do not know, exactly," Gabrielle admitted. "I _want_ her. Desperately, but that's not the same thing."

"Whatever for, if it is primarily a physical thing?" asked Hermione in genuine astonishment. "You could have anyone. You're as beautiful as Fleur is."

"Merci, but you told me to stop saying those things," Gabrielle answered her. "Have you changed your mind? I am not shielding you either, and your feelings for me are not precisely those of a sibling at this moment."

Hermione's head hit the table again.

"Well, Hermione? Do you want Gabrielle? I have already said that I do not mind," Fleur reminded her. "What do you wish to do?"

"Oh dear God," Hermione muttered. "I want _you_, Fleur. I thought that I had you, and it was beyond wonderful." Gabrielle gave a satisfied smile. "I'm confused, and yes, Gabrielle, I am still quite aroused, which I find astonishing given the circumstances. Since it's all out in the open now, I see three possible alternatives for me at this time, if you will not allow this to simply be forgotten. Will you?"

"Non, I have said this already," Gabrielle.

"I am sorry to increase your discomfort, Hermione, but I too feel this must be resolved, at least to some degree. It is simply too important to ignore," Fleur told her.

"Very well, and please remember that you asked what I wanted, I am hardly at my best just now." Hermione drew a deep breath, and tried to assume a professorial mien.

"Option one, and this would be my preference; Fleur, you come with me right now and we make love. This is not a one time offer; if you're not ready I understand and am willing to wait. If you aren't interested, and you know that you aren't interested in me in that way, just tell me so. There will never be a better time, I am beyond shock or hurt at the moment."

"Option two, and this does have an undeniable appeal. Gabrielle and I go back to my room and finish what we started. If that's it, I recommend earplugs, because she's not wrong about the state of my libido, and she certainly does know what to kiss and when to kiss it. But – if it would bother you in the least, for any reason whatsoever, given that I want nothing more than to spend my life loving you and only you, let me know. It might irk Gabrielle but she's a big girl. And I don't usually do casual sex, but these are special circumstances. Come to that, sex with Gabrielle can scarcely be described as casual."

"Merci."

"Pray don't mention it."

"And the third option?" Fleur asked, still quite calm.

"I go back to my room and do what I've been doing when I have had to ever since you stayed with me at the institute. I bury my face in something that smells like you and masturbate until my brain boils. _God above_, I cannot_ believe_ that I am saying these things." She heaved a huge sigh.

Fleur gnawed on her bottom lip as she thought. Gabrielle sighed as well after a while, and slowly shook her head.

"Merde," Gabrielle said.

"I am sorry Gabrielle, it is truly selfish of me, and I have no right to do it, but…"

"Very well, Fleur. But I warn you, if you falter, if you take too long, I will go to her and try my best," Gabrielle promised.

"D'accord, and thank you for understanding."

"What did I miss?" Hermione asked.

Fleur said nothing, and for the first time Hermione noticed that she was wearing only panties and a camisole. She swallowed audibly, and then Fleur stood and pulled the camisole off and handed it to Hermione.

"I am not yet ready," Fleur admitted, "but I find that I am too selfish to share you in this way just now without pain, even with Gabrielle. The choice is still yours, but if you choose option three, I want to help." Hermione clutched the camisole to her breast and stared.

"You are not playing fair, Fleur, but I am not going to be the villain here," Gabrielle declared. "Hermione, if you want me you know where I am. If you wait too long, I will be finished; I am not precisely relaxed myself. Fleur, I love you too much to put pressure on Hermione while she is so vulnerable, and in any case I prefer to be appreciated for myself alone. Now if you ladies will excuse me, I have personal business to attend to." She left.

"You really don't want me to be with anyone else?" Hermione asked.

"I do not. It is not fair, I admit it, and tomorrow I shall not ask where you spent tonight."

Hermione stood and removed her t-shirt, and handed it to Fleur.

"Just in case," she said, and she turned and went into her room, locking the door audibly.

Fleur stood for a few moments staring after her, and then she went to her own room, and a cloud descended on her as she went.


	12. Chapter 12

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 12 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Rating: R

Summary: The good and the bad

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant, *Read The Notes, Please*, Possible Triggers -

serious emotional trauma, ptsd

Word Count: 1730

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

A/N: The next chapters deal with serious and potentially triggering things of an emotional and physical nature. I promise not to write anything in an attempt to shock or sensationalize, but this is where this story goes. Likely what follows will not seem like a big deal to some of you reading, but I cannot know this, and I respect and value you too much to take risks with you to build suspense or create drama.

My thanks to those who have reviewed.

"Not Fate"

Chapter 12

Breakfast was not as awkward as Hermione had feared, but Fleur did wonder if Gabrielle looked perhaps a bit smug. In fact, now that everything was out in the open including intimate grooming habits, Hermione actually felt relieved. Neither Fleur nor Gabrielle changed the way they behaved towards her. Fleur did not shy away from touching her and neither did Gabrielle. Hermione began to realize that Veela had a very healthy outlook on sexual relationships.

None of them had gotten much sleep though, and Hermione was very grateful for the extension of time that Gabrielle had given them, even apart from the prospect of more time here.

"My week is next," Fleur volunteered over breakfast, or brunch, more accurately, which they ate on the patio.

"I am free," Gabrielle said.

"I should ask Dean Wilkes," Hermione admitted, though she really wanted to stay. There were still three weeks before the start of term, but she _had _ planned to return today. "Oh, did you mean for me to stay too?"

"I did," Gabrielle said, "I have not abandoned all hope." Hermione looked at her quickly, but could tell that she was teasing. Mostly.

"You can never tell," Hermione replied, "try a long wig next time."

"I have one in my field kit," Gabrielle told her.

"Should I go for a very long walk?" asked Fleur.

"No need, your time is not yet up," Gabrielle conceded.

Hermione was amazed that she was able to joke about last night, and she loved them both more than ever. Fleur had been right; they truly were a family, albeit a really affectionate one.

"I'll go and floo call the dean," Hermione told them, and she stood and went into the house.

An owl landed on the back of Hermione's vacant chair.

"It's for you," Fleur said as she handed the message to Gabrielle.

"Oh, Giselle is here!" Gabrielle cried in delight.

"I will make your apologies to Hermione," Fleur told her, a knowing grin spreading across her face, "do we expect you home tonight?"

"I think not," Gabrielle allowed, "she is no Hermione, but she does not belong to my sister, either. I am jealous, Fleur, I admit it. I do not think that you deserve her!" Gabrielle teased.

"Off with you, you brazen tramp!"

Gabrielle kissed Fleur briefly, and then leapt lightly over the garden wall and sprinted off down the hill.

The smile that this brought to Fleur's face faded away as she reflected on Gabrielle's parting jibe.

_"Non, I do not deserve her,"_ she thought, and her eyes spilled over.

"All set!" Hermione exclaimed brightly as she skipped back to the table. "I took the liberty of inviting her for a couple days next week, it never hurts to suck up to the boss – Fleur, you're crying! Where's Gabrielle? Has something happened?"

"Un moment, s'il vous plait," Fleur forced out. This worried Hermione, for not only had Fleur spoken French, but she had used the formal rather than the familiar, she was truly upset. With a visible effort, Fleur gained control. "Come with me please, we must talk." Hermione shuddered; nothing good ever began with, 'we must talk'. Fleur rose and held out her hand to Hermione. Hermione took it and allowed herself to be led into the sitting room and over to a small couch. Fleur sat and patted the cushion beside her. Hermione sat, but she could not suppress the rising dread.

"First of all, Gabrielle is fine. A friend of hers has arrived and she went to visit her, your bed will be safe tonight," Fleur tried a smile, but it was a poor thing.

"Oh, good," Hermione replied, "I hope she's up to the job, whoever she is." She fell silent, waiting.

"I have to tell you something. It is – difficult to admit, but you have the right to know."

"You can tell me anything Fleur, I hope you know that." Fleur smiled again, and nodded.

"Oui, I do know it. I – I am- missing - something, Hermione, especially for a woman of Veela heritage. I do not work properly. I lack…" she fell silent, and Hermione took her hand and waited. Fleur drew in a huge breath. "I cannot experience sexual pleasure with another person; I have never been able to. The Weasley's are right to blame me for the failure of our marriage, for the lack of children. It is my fault. Bill was patient, and he truly loved me, but in the end he could not stand it, not when the wolf grew stronger, and his passions with it. I tried, you must believe that I tried, I love kissing, and being held, and I _do_ become aroused, but…" Fleur shifted tracks a bit.

"I am sure that you heard what they called me at Hogwarts, yes? Cock-teaser?" Hermione nodded, she had indeed heard that, but she had put it down to jealousy. "It was true, I suppose. I did not mean to be, but no matter how I tried I would freeze up when things passed a certain point, when the touching became truly sexual. I shut down if my breasts are fondled; I go rigid when my most intimate place is touched, sometimes I panic. I tried to accommodate Bill sometimes, but it was dreadful for both of us, hurtful." Hermione squeezed her hand, but said nothing.

"And now you love me. You want me, and I want to give myself to you, I do! But it will not work, I will shut down, or panic and strike out, and you will feel hurt and rejected, and then you too will leave me." Fleur's eyes closed, and her head bowed. Hermione hurt as she never had before. She would rather go naked and wandless to Bellatrix LeStrange than see this much pain and grief in Fleur.

"Fleur, my love," Hermione said softly, "I will never leave you. Never. It is true that I want you, but I want all of you, for every reason. If we can't share that, we can share everything else, and if you want to we can seek help. Other people have this difficulty; it's not a lack in you, my dearest one. There is a reason for it, and perhaps the reason can be found."

"I have been to a therapist, he ended up trying to "cure" me with his personal magnetism," Fleur said bitterly. "I wonder if he ever found his testicles?" Hermione choked off a laugh.

"I'm sorry, it's not funny at all," she apologized.

"That part is," Fleur countered, and the faint smile was a little better.

"Can you talk about this some more now, or do you need to rest?" Hermione asked gently.

"The hardest part is over, better to go on, though I do not know what good it can do. If you can face what you faced last night, then I can face this. For you, I can face anything." Fleur told her.

"I love you, Fleur. Now, do you not experience sexual pleasure at all? You said that you couldn't experience it with 'another person'."

"I have no difficulty alone, no. I enjoy masturbation as much as anyone," Fleur assured her. A small but genuine smile lit her face. "I tried option three myself, last night," she confessed. "I have never experienced such an orgasm. You are not getting your shirt back." Hermione's mouth went dry, but she stuck to the point.

"To me, that proves that you 'work' so to speak. Your body responds normally, so the trouble could be emotional. Can you recall a traumatic event?"

"Would you like a list?" Fleur replied.

"Right," Hermione said in chagrin, "Fleur, I might do more harm than good here. I'm not really trained in psychotherapy."

"But you love me, and I trust you. So long as you think there is a chance, I am willing to take the risk. I want to be whole, Hermione. I want to experience all of life with you."

"For your sake, though, not mine? Because I can be perfectly happy with you without that aspect of life," Hermione promised.

"I cannot," Fleur admitted. "I have never had this, and I want it with you. I want you, Hermione, all of you, and I want you to have all of me. I may require time for this, but I need no time to know that I love you; I lied about that, because I was afraid and ashamed. And I was a fool. I could not sense your true feelings for me because I had shielded you. I thought your love for me was that of a friend, not a lover, and so I pretended to feel the same way. I said I loved you as my sister because I love Gabrielle so much, it was the only way I could try and let you know how much I love you, Hermione. I have loved you ever since I cared for you at the cottage, but of course I could say nothing then. But now I can."

"I am in love with you, Hermione Granger."

The sun rose for a second time that morning, just for them. They took a long moment and simply looked at each other, each seeing their love reflected in the face before them. For them both, it was timeless.

"I guess Gabrielle portraying me as some sort of sexual goddess didn't help things much when I told you how I felt. Well, sort of told you, as well as I could without being able to speak." Fleur kissed her hand.

"But I shall be forever grateful to Gabrielle for forcing the issue," Fleur told her. "You know, that might be an answer, if I cannot overcome this. She is nearly me, after all. I could watch you with her, and enjoy your pleasure in that way."

"Interesting idea," Hermione said after the initial shock had passed, "but I'm not Veela at all, that would be too much for me."

"For me as well I think, I am merely making bad jokes."

"But if I had said that I wanted that, you would have agreed, wouldn't you?" Fleur nodded. "You love me that much?"

"Oui."

"I am no therapist," Hermione said slowly, "but there is something that might be of use that I _am_ highly qualified in."

"Tell me then, what?" Fleur asked eagerly.

"Legilimency," Hermione answered.


	13. Chapter 13

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 13 of 28

Pairing: : Now, Fleur/Hermione

Rating: R

Summary: The search... "Like the circles that you find..."

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant, *Read The Notes, Please*, Possible Triggers -

serious emotional trauma, ptsd

Word Count: 1760

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

A/N: The next chapters deal with serious and potentially triggering things of an emotional and physical nature. I promise not to write anything in an attempt to shock or sensationalize, but this is where this story goes. Likely what follows will not seem like a big deal to some of you reading, but I cannot know this, and I respect and value you too much to take risks with you to build suspense or create drama. And this is different from what you may have come to expect from me.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Thirteen

"I did not know that you were a Legilimens," Fleur confessed, "when did you learn this?"

"After the war, I studied that and Occlumency so that I would never again be vulnerable to someone like Bellatrix. Cruciatus works on the mind, but it won't work on mine. Not anymore. Not ever again. My mind is my own."

"I see, that is remarkable, but no more than I expect from you, my darling Hermione," Fleur said proudly.

"You do know something about Legilimency, don't you? It is intrusive. Not painful, I promise that, but I will see everything in your mind, everything that was _ever_ in it, of any consequence, if you allow me to do this. It is an intimacy far beyond sex, make no mistake," Hermione said seriously.

"For that reason alone, I want it," Fleur told her. "If I cannot joyously give you my body, I shall freely give you my mind. My trust in you is complete."

"This is probably the best place to do it," Hermione told her, "this is where you brought me to tell me things that you knew would be painful and difficult. We should not be interrupted though; can you ask Gabrielle to stay away?"

"No need, Giselle will keep her occupied overnight, at the least."

"Very well, but we should have a bathroom break first, this might take a while," Hermione told her.

"A splendid idea, so very practical you are, my dearest one."

_"May I prove worthy of your trust, my love."_

This was not hubris on Hermione's part however, in both Occlumency and Legilimency she was not superb; she was supreme.

They were soon settled back in on the couch, refreshed, if not actually relaxed.

"Before we begin, I need you to tell me about people who have been important in your life. I will see them in your mind, and it might help to be able to identify them. I know the people in the Order, the Weasleys, your parents, and Gabrielle, of course." Hermione blushed. "Who else?"

"Aunt Ariel, my mother's sister. She looks just like mother; she stayed with the Veela and has no children, but we saw her often. She taught me much about Veela, and doubtless influenced me. My father had a brother, younger than he. I scarcely remember him at all; they had a falling-out when I was quite young, some business thing, I believe. Father never spoke of him after that, but I remember that he was very unhappy then. I do not think that he ever really got over that loss. I suppose that he must have looked a bit like Papa, but unfortunately there are no longer any family pictures here."

"That should do; teachers, colleagues?"

"Olympe, of course, but I trust that you will have no difficulty identifying her."

"Unlikely, yes, go on," Madame Maxime could not be called forgettable, by anyone.

"Bill's friends, but I never cared for them, nor they for me. If you see faceless uncouth rowdies, that may be them. There are the other professors at Beauxbatons, of course, difficult to describe, but you should recognize a professor when you see one, and they will likely be in Beauxbatons robes."

"How about WMD?" Hermione asked. Fleur smiled at the name.

"Chief among them will be Robert, the dean. He is a very large man with a round, kind, face and not much hair. And there is Lilac, a beautiful Chinese woman; she fancies me," Fleur said proudly.

"Who doesn't? Anyone else?"

"Harriet and Rachel, they will doubtless be together, a short blonde and a tall brunette. There is no uniform to identify the staff, but there is a distinctive kind of informality common to them. I love working with them all, but Robert is certainly the primary figure there. You must meet him."

"I look forward to it, WMD sounds like a marvelous place. That should do for a start; this might take more than one session, anyway. Are you ready?"

"I am," Fleur said calmly.

Hermione raised her wand and stared into Fleur's eyes, seeing the trust in them.

"Legilimens," she intoned, and Fleur's mind opened willingly to her.

Because of Hermione's skill and power, and Fleur's trust in her, it was not like Hermione was seeing pictures; it was as if she was walking through Fleur's mind, a literal stroll down memory lane. Everyone's mind is different of course, and in her training Hermione had seen many different arrangements. In Fleur's mind she seemed to be on a curving pathway, to the inside was a smooth wall, and to the outside there were groupings of figures and scenes. It reminded Hermione of a carousel.

She discovered that if she walked up to a figure or a scene and concentrated that she could hear things from it. Sometimes music, sometimes snippets of conversation, but these memories were not very vivid, and the detail was poor, and so from this Hermione inferred that they were not very important. She briskly followed the curving path, pausing now and again if something caught her interest. She found herself back where she had started, looking at a group of mimes. Hermione was pleased that they seemed of little import.

But what now? This could not be all, or was Fleur resisting her after all? She looked at the inner wall and saw a door that had not been there before. She opened it and stepped through onto another curving path. "Please," she said into the silence, "not a maze, don't let it be a maze." Moving off briskly, she saw that these images were more distinct, and she paused more often. She saw Fleur's first experience of ice cream, and a play that Fleur had been in when she was young; she was fascinated, but forced herself to move on.

Hermione deduced that the images were not arranged chronologically, but by importance, the play had been next to the Yule Ball during the Triwizard. Hermione was pleased to see where Roger Davies ranked in Fleur's memories. She completed the circuit, paused to stick her tongue out at Davies, and then turned to the inner wall. Another door. She was excited when she opened the door and saw what she expected to see.

"Concentric circles," she breathed, "what a beautiful way to organize a mind, how very clever she is." Confident in her assessment, Hermione moved faster, passing by things that would have held her rapt for days, so eager she was to learn more about Fleur. But she knew that she was looking for something important, and likely not pleasant at all. She moved inward.

The circle was notably smaller now, the curve sharper, and the sounds and images more distinct. Beauxbatons graduation, Fleur's wedding to Bill, Hermione was pleased that she appeared in that scene. Even as she looked at it, it vanished, a sign that it had changed in significance to Fleur. Perhaps she would see it again on the way out. There were a few incidents from the war as well, and Hermione knew that she must be getting closer. She opened the next door and stepped through.

xxxx

From Fleur's point of view, she was sleeping, although she appeared to be sitting relaxed, holding Hermione's hand. Hermione's skill was such that Fleur was almost completely unaware of the presence inside her mind. As Hermione had promised, it was painless. Fleur was blessedly oblivious as Hermione stepped through the doors.

The fourth circle held little that she thought relevant, and she wasted no time on it. She did smile at Dumbledore on the way by, however, and cast an appraising eye on a very lovely oriental woman. Hermione decided that she did not like her.

The fifth held many things that she did not recognize, mostly Fleur's colleagues at Beauxbatons, she supposed. The feelings from them were positive, however. She saw Luna, as she had looked at Shell Cottage, and she paused for a time at an image of Dobby's funeral. She loved Fleur a bit more for that.

The sixth door appeared, and she reached for the handle.

xxxx

"Again?" Giselle asked in honest wonder.

"Again," confirmed Gabrielle. Giselle delightedly took credit for Hermione's work, but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Gabrielle did, though, a little.

xxxx

The first thing Hermione saw when she stepped through the sixth door was the Weasleys, all of them. Their faces were set, hard and condemning. There was a cover over them, a sort of gauzy gray shroud, and they were motionless and silent, and Hermione was grateful for that. Fleur had done a credible job of sealing off this unpleasant part of her past, but by really concentrating Hermione could pick up feelings from them. She turned resolutely away, this was real pain for Fleur, but it was too recent to be what she was looking for. She moved on.

There was Harry, pulling Gabrielle from the lake along with Ron. There was Fleur, being dragged down by Grindylows, Gabrielle tied and helpless at the limit of her vision. Hermione stopped in shock at the sight of herself at the Yule Ball; she had had no inkling that Fleur had even noticed her. More scenes from the war, the scenes packed closely together here, crowding against each other. Hermione and Fleur on the beach, Fleur tucking Hermione's breast back inside her suit, Fleur kissing Hermione in the sea at St. Catherine's, Hermione, Hermione, a woman who must be Aunt Ariel, Gabrielle receiving her commission, Hermione taking Fleur's hand on the beach in Hawaii. There was a large man with a kind face and very little hair, and Hermione moved close to listen, i"Jesus Christ she's brilliant. Thank you, Linda."/i, she heard.

Hermione blew Robert a kiss and turned away to see- Bill. Hermione walked all around him, but no matter how quickly she did it, his back remained to her. She wondered how hard he had really tried, but he had kept Fleur's secret, and Hermione felt no real anger towards him.

Fleur's parents.

Hermione had to stop; she stood, silent and weeping, overcome by this proof of how very important she was to Fleur. She had never imagined…

Hermione shook herself, and set her face, hardening her resolve. She felt a fire awaken within her that she had not known since the war.

Hermione was coldly, deadly, and absolutely determined to find the source of Fleur's pain.

She opened what she somehow knew was the last door, and stepped through it.


	14. Chapter 14

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 14 of 28

Pairing: : Fleur/Hermione

Rating: R

Summary: The **ugly**

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant, **Read The Notes, Please**, Possible Triggers - serious emotional and physical trauma, ptsd, violent assault on a child*

Word Count: 1900

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

A/N: The next chapters deal with serious and potentially triggering things of an emotional and physical nature. I promise not to write anything in an attempt to shock or sensationalize, but this is where this story goes.

**It will not get worse than this. It couldn't. This is the most ruthlessly edited chapter I have ever written. It was originally two chapters, in fact. It was more "powerful". But I think this is enough. Further notes follow the text.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Fourteen

This was no path, but a room. The hub of all the circles, here were the most influential things in Fleur's life, and there were just three things.

An image of Gabrielle, which changed from time to time.

An image of Hermione, which also shifted.

And a malevolent tangle of black thorns, unmoving, but ugly, and reeking of pain and fear.

"I suppose that must be it," Hermione told herself as she fought down a rising dread. "How to deal with this, then?"

xxxx

Fleur stirred a little on the couch, and squeezed Hermione's hand a bit tighter.

xxxx

"I am the best you've ever had, am I not?" Giselle demanded from somewhere amidst the tangled and sweaty sheets.

"Certainly the best I've ever had all that I wanted from, yes," Gabrielle granted. It would not do to allow Giselle to become complacent, for she was at her best in a competitive atmosphere. "But there was this one woman…"

"I do not believe you! Who is this fictional creature? I demand the right of trial by combat; I shall shag her into oblivion!"

"Alas, I can never tell you, and in any case she is beyond reach. She has given herself utterly to another," Gabrielle said sadly.

"Pah! I insist on satisfaction!"

"And I shall strive to give it to you, but this woman – this woman would kill you with pleasure, I promise you."

The light of battle kindled in Giselle's eyes, and Gabrielle sent a silent thanks to Hermione.

xxxx

Hermione analyzed the thicket. She could of course simply blast it apart, but it was so tightly bound for a reason. She could see a more solid mass within the thorny barrier, and she patiently and delicately set about shifting enough of the thick and prickly tangle to gain access to it.

Slowly, carefully, she straightened, she nudged aside, and she gently spread apart, until at last she had revealed an iron chest bound with thick chains and strong locks. She rested a moment, and then resumed her patient progress.

It seemed like it took days, but she finally had the chains off. She started in on the last lock.

xxxx

Fleur whimpered.

xxxx

Hermione considered what to do. Clearly, Fleur had not intended to ever open this chest. But neither had she ever intended it to be seen, let alone sought, and so Hermione thought that the simplest technique might serve best.

"Alohomora," she whispered, and she tapped the lock with her wand.

It sprang open with a shriek of reluctant metal.

After considering for another time, Hermione carefully closed the thorn barrier, trapping herself and the contents of the chest behind it. At least she hoped that she was trapping it, but it would not help Fleur to stop now. She had come expecting something ugly, after all.

She opened the chest.

xxxx

"Could your goddess do that?" Giselle demanded.

"I truly do not know. As I said, I did not have my fill of her. In any case, her true majesty is not so much in what she gives, but in the wonder of how she receives, do you see?"

"Give it to me! All of it! Everything!"

"As you say," agreed a delighted Gabrielle.

xxxx

Within the chest lay what appeared to be a crystal ball, it was covered with caked dirt, and the sight of it turned Hermione's stomach. Carefully she rubbed it with the sleeve of her blouse, and a small clear spot materialized.

She had not expected ugliness like this.

Her mind was filled with the terrified screams of a child.

She did not want to look, but her love for Fleur gave her the strength to do so, and she bent over the chest and peered through the spot she had cleared.

Hot bile rose in her throat.

What she saw was Fleur, a tiny Fleur; she looked to be about six years old. She was in a dimly lit room, on her back on a bare and dusty floor, pinned there by a much, much, larger figure. A figure with large hands that tore the blouse from the screaming child.

Hermione forced herself to watch it all; she had to know it all to better help Fleur.

She watched as Fleur fought, never stopping, never giving up, and in one of many shifting views she saw a face that looked like a younger version of Fleur's father, and her blood froze in her veins, but still she did not look away. There was a loud crash, and light flooded the scene.

"Papa!" cried the child Fleur. And then another man's hands entered the scene and ripped the assailant away from Fleur. A fist slammed into the face, and again, and again, and again, and when the child shifted her gaze away from that Hermione saw a man that she knew at once to be Fleur's father; his face was black with rage, his eyes were blazing, and his mouth was twisted in fury. And then Hermione saw him close his hands on his brother's throat, and things went mercifully black.

"I must not vomit in Fleur's mind," was Hermione's first coherent, if not precisely rational, thought.

She slammed the lid of the chest shut, locked it, and then refastened the chains. She forced herself to gently unweave the thorns enough to escape. Her clothing and skin were both torn as she forced her way through the opening, but she did not notice. She closed the opening she had created, sat, and put her head between her knees.

When she had the strength to raise her head, she found herself looking at her own image here in this most important of places. It shifted from a scene of her staring into Fleur's eyes, wand raised, to a tableau of her with her chin on the table, one finger pointing at Gabrielle while the same finger of the other hand touched her nose.

The very instant that she had revealed her love for Fleur.

She stood and made her way back to the entrance.

"I am back, love," Hermione whispered as she kissed Fleur gently on the lips.

Fleur stretched and yawned, and then she smiled at Hermione.

"Did you find anything other than air in there?" she asked.

"Lots," Hermione said softly. Fleur took in Hermione's expression and her smile vanished.

"Did you find what you sought?"

"I did, I am sure of it," Hermione told her.

"Well then, let's hear it," Fleur said resolutely.

"Fleur," Hermione began, "it's bad."

"As bad as what Bella did to you?" Fleur asked, clearly expecting to hear 'no'.

"Worse. Fleur my love, there is no easy answer to this. There is risk at every chance, and certain pain on most courses," Hermione told her. Fleur drew a deep breath.

"What can we do then?" she asked boldly.

"Again I see three courses of action. First, I can free the memory that I found, and we can deal with it together. This will be painful, terribly painful I would think, and I cannot guarantee the outcome."

"Very well, next please."

"I can excise the memory completely. There will be no chance of it ever surfacing, but I cannot make it as if it had never been. I believe that the unfortunate effect that this had on you might become permanent then, and there could be other effects that I cannot foresee. The mind is a very subtle thing, and although yours is a very beautiful and elegant thing indeed, it is vulnerable to itself; as anyone's is. Frankly, I like this option least. There would be no true gain that I can see, and there is a potential for much loss."

"I see, and the third? I assume it will not be as pleasant as masturbating with my face in your clothes," Fleur said with a smile. Hermione stared at her in awe.

"Well, actually, that's about what it would be. We can leave things as they are, and build our relationship accordingly. This would be my choice, if it were my choice to make. Your mind has done a magnificent job of protecting that memory. I very much doubt if it will ever escape."

"But it is possible?"

"Yes," Hermione admitted.

"And in the meantime I will remain as I am, unable to respond to you as I long to?"

"Not necessarily, conventional therapy might eventually enable you to take pleasure from my touch. It could happen, it has worked for others." Hermione was willing Fleur to choose this.

"Other Veela?"

"I don't know. I can find out."

"I reject the removal; it is a part of me, no matter how terrible. So the choice is between doing nothing, and taking a risk, n'est ce pas?"

"In essence, yes," Hermione told her. Fleur drew a deep breath.

"Do you think that I can endure it if you release it?"

"Fleur, you can if anyone could, but it is truly horrible."

"You will stand with me?"

"I will stand with you through anything, whether you want me to or not," Hermione told her. "I have given myself utterly to you, and for me there is no turning back. I shall sit in the road in front of your house if that is as close as I can be to you."

"Then how can I do less? Whatever it is, I can scarcely be the only one that it has ever happened to, can I?" Fleur asked, and unbelievably, she smiled.

"Unfortunately no, you are not. Even if you overcome it, and I do believe that you will, it is simply not possible to doubt you. I just would rather spare you the pain if I could Even if – when, you come to terms with it, it may take considerable time before you can respond as you want to. Once the genie is out of the bottle, we will have left my realm of expertise. And everyone handles things differently."

"I understand. I choose this path; I will not forever be a victim. I will fight for what I want."

"I thought that you would," Hermione told her. "There is one thing more to tell you, though."

"Let's have it then."

"In the beginning, when the memory is first freed, you will not face it as a grown woman, but as a little girl."

"Will you tell me what it is?" Fleur asked.

"If you are resolved that I free the memory, then yes, I will. It would serve no purpose to tell you and leave it hidden, and so in that instance, no, I will not."

"You are of course correct, but I will not live in fear of my own mind. Tell me."

"You were raped by your uncle when you were a small child. Your father broke in on it and killed him for it, and you saw this happen." It was blunt, but there was no way at all to pretty up this picture.

"I see. That explains many things," Fleur said after an extended pause. "Let's get it over with."

"I will have to tell Gabrielle," Hermione informed her, "even she can't shag forever, and at best it is going to be obvious that something has happened" 

"Gabrielle must know, you are correct. One thing first, though." Fleur gently took Hermione's face in her hands, and kissed her thoroughly. "That will do for a start," Fleur whispered.

"Legilimens," Hermione breathed.

A/N: I had originally stretched this out to the limit of what I could stand. I admit it, as a writer I was proud of it, it was uncompromising in its raw emotion, and this is a subject that must be brought into the light as it is all too common. I promise you, you would have flinched at the least. And then I thought, "why?" The barest mention of this should horrify any of us beyond endurance. And so I decided that I would cut it to the minimum needed for the integrity of the story, and it _is_ just a story. One of my reasons was because if there was any remote chance of anyone seeing this that would actually _enjoy_ reading about it, that I would not want to feed that sort of sickness. To my readers, I am sorry, but there it is. Every day.

L

PS: This will be much more pleasant from here on.


	15. Chapter 15

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 15 of 28

Pairing: : Fleur/Hermione

Rating: R

Summary: Hermione meets Gabrielle Delacour, Fleur shows her mettle, and the light at the end of the tunnel is not a train.

Warnings: Angsty, non-epilog compliant, **Read The Notes, Please**, Possible Triggers -

serious emotional trauma, ptsd, brief hysterical violence not graphically portrayed*

Word Count: 1675

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

Nothing that approaches the last chapter for ugly, but the chest is opened.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Fifteen

Hermione wasted no time in sightseeing, but quickly made her way to the hub. She had planned her course of action, and delay would suit no purpose. She vented a bit of her rage by blasting the thorn barrier to bits, and shattering the chains on the iron chest. She again opened the lock, and cracked the lid open.

And then she ran as she never had before, trying desperately to reach Fleur in the real world before the horror began.

"I'm here," Hermione said.

Fleur opened her eyes and smiled, and then her eyes rolled back and the screaming began.

All that Hermione could do was to try and keep Fleur from hurting herself. She damned herself for an arrogant fool; she should have taken Fleur to St. Mungo's or a hospital in the United States. She should have had Gabrielle here; Gabrielle was much stronger than she. It made no difference to Hermione in the moment that Fleur would have refused any of these actions. All that occupied her mind now was fear for Fleur.

She did the best that she could; she never let Fleur dig her teeth or nails into her own skin. She thrust her forearm into Fleur's mouth when she bit, she took the blows, and she resisted the urge to restrain her forcibly or simply throw herself on top of Fleur, because she knew that that was part of what Fleur was fighting against. It was only a matter of minutes, really, no longer than the actual assault had been.

Just an eternity.

"Papa!" screamed Fleur, and in another moment she was limp on the couch.

Hermione sat and held Fleur's hand, and waited for her heart to explode. Eventually, it simply gradually calmed down. Fleur's breathing changed to that of normal sleep, and for the moment at least, Fleur seemed at peace.

The sun was rising in the sky when Gabrielle appeared, her expression rapidly changing from happiness, to confusion, to worry, before going completely blank. Her wand appeared in one hand, a black knife in the other, and she sank into a crouch. She was the single most terrifying sight that Hermione had ever seen; Riddle would have pissed himself had he faced her.

"What happened?" she asked as her eyes searched everywhere.

"There is no danger from without," Hermione told her, "this is an internal battle. And she is resting now."

"If you say so. What happened?" Gabrielle did not noticeably relax but Hermione thought that her best course of action was to swiftly answer the question, and so she just explained things as succinctly as she could.

Gabrielle did not interrupt.

"Are you certain that Papa killed him?" Gabrielle asked calmly.

"Certain? No, the memory faded before he actually died, but he was beaten too badly to fight back, and your father seemed intent on finishing the job."

"I shall investigate this; if he lives I will find him. I can find him if he lives. I will find him, and I will teach him things about pain that he never _imagined_, and then I will kill him," Gabrielle said in that same calm voice. She might have been ordering dinner.

"I'm not sure that Fleur would want you to-"

"That does not matter," she said dismissively. "If he lives, I will find him. You are a mess, Hermione. We must get you cleaned up; we cannot let Fleur see you like this." Gabrielle went to get towels and the medical supplies that she had in her field kit.

She never said a word of blame to Hermione, never questioned whether her actions might have been ill-considered. She simply set about doing what she could to help. Hermione was a bit sorry then that she had stopped her that night, she owed Gabrielle far more than her body, but that ship had almost certainly sailed.

Gabrielle returned and began to gently clean the deep scratches on Hermione's face and the teeth marks on her arms. Her touch was gentle and her hands were sure.

"She fought hard, did she not?" Gabrielle asked, coolly efficient as she healed the now-clean injuries and tended to the livid bruises on Hermione's face and body.

"Like a wolverine," Hermione confirmed.

"Bien fait, ma belle soeur," Gabrielle told her sleeping sister. "And what of you, Hermione, is there anything I can do to help? This must have been horrible for you."

"Horrible enough, but all I care about is Fleur. As long as she's okay I'll be fine."

"Would you like some advice?" Gabrielle asked.

"Do you have experience with this sort of thing?"

"We see this kind of thing all too often, yes. We cannot let her withdraw from us, and we cannot allow her to think that it was in any way her fault. We must take our cues from her, of course, but the best thing that we can do is to try and keep things as normal as possible while not pretending that nothing has happened. Do not be reluctant to touch her. This is how we handle our people who have been captured and tortured; do not make this more than it was. It was bad enough, of course, horrible, but people have gotten through worse. It seems to us that it is the worst thing that has ever happened, because we love her so, but it really is not. She is alive, she is healthy, she is loved, and she has purpose in her life. She will overcome this, do not doubt it. Expect it of her. We have some good people in medical that can help her if she wants, as well."

"Is your world always so harsh, then?" Hermione asked her.

"At times, but then there are the times when we are able to prevent things like this from happening. Those times are why we do what we do."

"What _do_ you do, Gabrielle? I know little of your branch of the Ministry. And why a knife when you have your wand?" Gabrielle shrugged.

"We do what needs to be done," she answered simply. "And spells may be countered. There is little magic that a good blade cannot cut." Hermione had no reply, overcome by wonder at the small woman before her who intimately knew both the light and the dark.

"Will you hold me?" Hermione asked.

Gabrielle knelt in front of the couch and put her arms around Hermione, it helped them both a little. Hermione gently stroked the quite short silver hair that was so like the longer tresses of Gabrielle's sister. Looking down she saw that Gabrielle's eyes never left her sister's face now that she was certain there was no outside threat. The bond between them was something that Hermione really had no way to understand, but the strength of it had been plain in Fleur's mind, and was plain on Gabriel's face now.

"Was it hard, Gabrielle, following in her footsteps? I rather think that she must have thrown a considerable shadow."

"Non, she threw no shadow on me. For me, she has always been a very bright light. She is my sun and my stars, she has always been so. No girl ever had such a sister," Gabrielle declared.

Hermione thought of Fleur's rueful expression when she had told her of Gabrielle's long string of conquests, and yet another light clicked on in her head.

"You are looking for someone like her, aren't you?" Hermione asked softly.

"Oui."

"A difficult task, I should imagine."

"Oui, I had begun to think it impossible, and then I came here, and there was you. You are very like her you know."

"Me? Like _Fleur_? You can't be serious Gabrielle, _look_ at her! Even after what she has been through I can scarcely breathe for her beauty," Hermione said in wonder.

"It is not her beauty that so affects you, it is _her_, and that is what is so similar about you. Your spirit, your mind, they are closer to Fleur's than anyone I have ever known. And so I know that my quest is not hopeless, as there is one, there will be another, somewhere. May I tell you something?"

"Anything at all, you are now a part of my life," Hermione assured her.

"It was no accident, my seeing you that night. I went to your room with a purpose; I had to try, to see if there could be something with us. Seeing you like that merely made me move a bit faster. And now I know. You would be enough for me." Hermione's heart, already a bit tattered, cracked just a little further.

"I'm sorry if this hurts you, Gabrielle. I know I that could love you too, I already do, what you sensed from me in the kitchen was real, but –"

"I am not hurt, Hermione. You and I could work together, that is true, but it would not be what you and Fleur have, not quite. I love you, and I am truly happy for you both, and also I will always have my memories of our too-brief time together."

"As will I," Hermione admitted, and she laid her cheek on the quite short silver hair and held this elfin creature that she also loved.

They were still like that when Fleur woke up.

"Honestly, Gabi, do you never give up? Or have I run out of time?" Fleur asked. Hermione cast an astonished look at Fleur, who seemed remarkably cheerful.

"No, my love, it is not gone. But I will heal now, and without you and your talents I might never truly have. I am the big girl, do you see? I have my so-fierce sister, my other heart; I am certain of your love for me, I am Veela, and I am strong," she shrugged. "I am also hungry, feed me, woman!"


	16. Chapter 16

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 16 of 28 Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Rating: R

Summary: Gabrielle puts Hermione on notice, healing begins

Warnings: Little bit of girlsex, reference to past trauma that could possibly be a trigger

Word Count: 1425

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling

A/N: We're done with the real ugly, and I am not going to get carried away describing or emphasizing the challenges ahead of them. If you're still here, thank you.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Sixteen

"Perhaps it is best that I cook," Gabrielle said tactfully, "what would you like?"

"Boeuf bourguignonne, but I am too hungry to wait for it," Fleur confessed.

"That is why we French invented hors-d'ouvres," Gabrielle explained. "I shall fix something quickly and then begin on your bourguignonne. Would you like something to drink?"

"Water, please." Gabrielle headed to the kitchen.

"How badly did I hurt you, my love?" Fleur asked Hermione.

"Do you see any injuries?"

"Do not dissemble, I remember. I saw myself biting you, clawing at you, striking you. I could not help it, but I know. You sacrificed yourself to protect me."

"Fleur, it was easier for me that way, and Gabrielle has taken care of it all. May we start by forgetting that part of it? It is of no importance," Hermione asked.

"It is of great importance to _me_, but I shall keep the memory as more proof of your love for me and not speak of it again. Hermione…"

"Yes?"

"Please kiss me."

Hermione touched her lips to Fleur's, and Fleur gave Hermione her love in that kiss. It was soft and tender, and it began the process of overcoming the horror for them both.

xxxx

It was the second night after Hermione's journey into Fleur's mind, and things had been better than Hermione had dared to hope. She would occasionally see a shadow fall over Fleur's face, but it would pass quickly. But it was hard for Hermione to touch Fleur; she feared that it would bring back the horror. It never did, that she was aware of, but the fear would not leave her.

Gabrielle was a blessing for both Fleur and Hermione. She took care of the daily routine so that they could concentrate on each other, and she followed her own advice and helped to keep them anchored in the present and looking forward to the future. She bullied them both into taking walks outside in the sun to prove to them that what they had been through had left no visible marks, and that the world was indeed in its accustomed shape.

There would doubtless be setbacks in the future, but the love that these three had for one another was surely up to the task. Hermione was positively stunned by the strength of her companions, and she knew that within the construct of her own mind that Gabrielle was standing hard by Fleur in the place of greatest importance.

Hermione had brewed some dreamless sleep potion for Fleur, and she waited for Fleur to change into her night things and take the potion. They had all spent the previous night together in the sitting room, dozing and talking together, but Fleur wanted to try and sleep in her own bed now. The responsibilities and necessities of life had not changed. Hermione sat by her and held her hand until she saw the potion take effect. And although she longed to hold her as she slept, feared the possible consequence of a drowsy caress despite the use of the potion.

She stood by Fleur's bed for a long moment watching her, and then silently bid goodnight to her as she slept and retired to her room. She was changing into her gown when her door swung open and Gabrielle walked in.

"Don't you knock?" Hermione asked, a bit irritated. Gabrielle shrugged.

"I have already seen all there is to see, and while I do not deny that I would enjoy seeing you naked again, that is not why I am here. You must do more for her, for Fleur." Hermione stared.

"But what? What more would you have me do?" asked Hermione, genuinely puzzled.

"You love her, yes?"

"Of course! Haven't I shown that?" Hermione asked, still confused, and a bit hurt.

"Do you doubt her love for you?"

"No! I cannot doubt it, I saw it, I heard it, I do not deserve it, but I cannot doubt it."

"Then why does she sleep alone?" Gabrielle asked her.

"She would not know I was there, Gabrielle, she has the potion I brewed for her."

"And do you really believe that she took it? Do you not know her better than that?"

Hermione had no rebuttal for that.

"Go to her, now. Hold her. Kiss her. Let her feel your love. I understand your fear, but I require this of you. Only your touch can truly heal her. Perhaps it will be long before she can fully give her body to you, I do not know. But she has given you her heart already. Go and hold it, cherish it, cover her with your love. Fear is only fear, and you must overcome it. Fleur is not glass, she is Veela, and she is Delacour, and she is woman. Treat her as such."

Gabrielle turned and walked out. Hermione stared after her for a moment, and then realized that Gabrielle was right. She had yielded to fear. She walked naked into Fleur's bedroom, slipped under the covers and pulled Fleur to her. Fleur snuggled into her embrace and sighed deeply.

"I'm sorry, I was afraid," Hermione told her.

"I understand. We must go slowly, but I wish to begin, and I long for your touch, the feel of your skin on mine. I shall let you know if it is too much, but you must believe that I want nothing more than to feel you inside me, to feel your kisses, your touch. You have let me see that this was something done ito/i me, not any lack or failing on my part. What happened was not sex, but violence, madness. Your touch is different, it is filled with love, and I do not fear it. Shall we begin?"

"Oui," said Hermione, and she threaded her fingers into the silver hair. The quite long silver hair.

"Fleur, my beloved," Hermione whispered, her lips on Fleur's ear.

"Yes?"

"There is no need for you to go slowly with me, and I want nothing more than to feel you inside me…"

"Bien," whispered Gabrielle from the shadows, and she slipped silently away.

xxxx

It turned out that Hermione was even more responsive to being touched when she _knew _that it was Fleur. It was not skill or experience that made the difference, for Fleur had even less experience than Hermione.

It was because Fleur Delacour truly loved every bit of Hermione Granger, right down to the tiny mole that was in a place very few people had ever had the opportunity of seeing. Gabrielle had missed it entirely, but Fleur gave it a smile and a kiss because she thought it cute.

It was just an ordinary small mole, really, but it was Hermione's.

The very obvious pleasure that her touch gave Hermione resonated within Fleur, and Hermione's pleasure became her own. Fleur stared in wonder at the beautiful expression on Hermione's face as she abandoned herself to Fleur; she studied the taut cords of her neck, the mist of sweat on her brow and breasts, she drank in the taste of her skin, the scent of her passion, and the sounds of her completion.

Fleur was not yet able to similarly abandon herself to such passion; there was still a frozen core of dread within her mind. But she could feel it melting, and she knew that in time Hermione would be able to experience the same joy that she did now. The joy of seeing the one that you love surrender wholly to your touch, as an expression of trust and love.

For Hermione, it was her ultimate gift to Fleur, the lowering of all barriers. She let Fleur take control of her, gave herself utterly and completely to her.

And it was a joy beyond even _her_ understanding.

xxxx

Gabrielle entered Hermione's room with a purpose, and as thrilled as she was with how things were going for Fleur; she was the least bit grumpy.

"She was holding back with me," Gabrielle muttered as she rummaged among the covers of Hermione's bed. "Ah, she owes me more than this," she said when she found what she had been looking for and turned to leave. She stopped, went to the night table, picked up Hermione's mp3 player and paused for a moment, listening to Hermione dying yet again.

Then she jammed the buds into her ears and turned the volume up.

_"Perhaps there will be another time,"_ she thought. _"I cannot leave them alone tonight and go to Giselle, but there is still option three…"_


	17. Chapter 17

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 17 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Rating: R

Summary: Small steps are taken, Dean Wilkes arrives, Hermione makes a small confession

Warnings: Little bit of girlsex, reference to past trauma that could possibly be a trigger

Word Count: 2350

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Seventeen

"Giselle wants me to accompany her to a play tonight," Gabrielle told Fleur and Hermione over breakfast. "Will you be all right overnight without me?"

It did not occur to either Fleur or Hermione to make light of the question. Gabrielle's presence had allowed them to feel safe and secure during the days following the opening of the black chest. Nothing, not even ghost or demon, could pass her, and they knew it.

"Oui," Fleur told her. "Hermione can ward the place against the fears of the night, but I am much improved. I may wake, but her presence will calm me quickly. You may abandon your duty as my bodyguard."

"That will never happen, not for either of you," Gabrielle said solemnly. "The two of you are my heart," and then she smiled broadly. "Giselle thanks you."

"I'm a bit jealous," Hermione admitted.

"You should be. I am magnificent. I grieve for you that you had not the chance to see this properly," Gabrielle sympathized.

"Perhaps for your birthday some year," Fleur granted graciously.

Hermione had no clear idea who was being offered as a gift to whom, nor whether Fleur was serious or not. Further, she was uncertain what her reaction would be if she was. Veela actually were a fair bit different, once you really got to know them. She did decide, however, that now was not the time to go into it, and elected to try and change the subject.

"Dean Wilkes arrives tomorrow; do you know when you will return?" Hermione asked. Gabrielle shrugged.

"Giselle is worn out; else she would not have suggested a play, so not very late. But not for breakfast, that would simply be rude of me. I shall bring lunch for us all. Shall we plan on one o'clock?" she answered.

"Excellent, you will like her, Gabrielle," Fleur assured her. "She is a very bright and accomplished woman. And quite attractive as well."

"I am sure that she will like you too," Hermione added.

"She enjoys women?" Gabrielle asked.

"Yes. She is in her forties though, but it is hard to tell so."

"I care not for her age, we shall see if her spirit speaks to mine, perhaps then she will be fortunate," Gabrielle postulated.

Neither Fleur nor Hermione thought to make light of that, either.

"Bien, I must depart. Try not to behave yourselves, n'est ce pas?" Gabrielle kissed them both, took up the small bag she had already packed, and gracefully left them.

"She is one of the most remarkable people I have ever met," Hermione told Fleur as she watched Gabrielle leap the fence for the pure joy of it.

"One of?"

"Well, there _is_ you, do you see?"

xxxx

"Only one week left," Hermione pouted after lunch, "I almost wish I hadn't invited Linda."

"Do not repent of your welcome, mon couer, as you said, it never hurts to suck up to the boss."

"Would you like to invite Robert?"

"Someday, yes," Fleur arched an eyebrow, "perhaps Lilac as well…"

"Fine with me, as long as Gabi is here too," Hermione said serenely.

"And what do you have in mind for my baby sister?"

"Take the chance and find out. She's your friend," Hermione challenged

"Pah! You tease me! Come, I shall get you all wet as a punishment!"

Hermione obediently rose and headed for the path to the beach.

"Where are you going?" Fleur purred.

Hermione longed to give Fleur the same pleasure that Fleur gave her, but Fleur could not yet accept so much. However, Fleur took such delight in Hermione's responses to her that she could sometimes simply ride that wave and arrive at the same destination. Their lovemaking was not without incident, sometimes Hermione would reach for Fleur without thought, and Fleur would go rigid in her arms, or shove her away roughly. When this happened, Hermione would remain very still until Fleur embraced her. And so they progressed slowly, learning what was possible for them, and Hermione never pulled away or flinched, or complained. They both knew that it was involuntary, and while it was frightening in the moment, it was not damaging because they both understood the cause of it. And they also discovered option four, and for Fleur, Hermione kissing her and holding her while she nudged herself that last little bit was so far beyond anything she had ever known that Fleur felt no lack whatsoever on her own account.

And she hoped in her heart that in time she would be able to take that last step, but today… today was glorious for them both, and they drifted into sleep feeling utterly at peace.

xxxx

"It is good to see you again, Linda," Fleur greeted Dean Wilkes as she emerged from the fireplace.

"Thank you Fleur, and thank you for having me as a guest in your home," she replied.

"Home? Hopefully, someday, but for now it is a place that I can come to seldom, although my Hermione has given us a great gift of time here this year," Fleur replied.

The look Fleur gave Hermione was not lost on Linda Wilkes.

"Did you?" she asked, and Hermione nodded. "And does she –"

"Indeed she does," Hermione confirmed.

"Wonderful!" Linda cried out, "I am so happy for you both!"

"Thank you Linda," Fleur replied, "and I must also thank you for sending me to WMD, it truly is a remarkable place, and I am very happy there."

"I'm glad, but not so glad mind you, that I will stop trying to lure you to Hawaii."

"Hawaii does indeed hold a certain allure," Fleur admitted, giving Hermione a look that nearly embarrassed Linda.

"Your house is beautiful, Fleur. It suits you very well." Linda blushed a bit.

"Relax, Linda" Hermione laughed, "no hats allowed here, and Fleur _is_ beautiful. Let me show you to your room."

Linda followed Hermione down the hall, and dropped her bag to look around the room.

"Gorgeous. Now, tell me everything," she demanded.

Hermione didn't.

She did however give a highly edited rendering of the events.

"Gabrielle asked if I was in love with her sister, and I told her that I was. And then Gabrielle got us all together at the table in the kitchen and sort of brought things into the open. She is quite forceful, and very beautiful and strong. You will like her."

"Is she anything like Fleur?" Linda asked.

"Very much, a bit 'earthier' perhaps," Hermione confirmed.

"I like her already," Linda decided.

"You'll meet her at lunch. She spent the night with a girlfriend, and she is bringing lunch for us all when she returns," Hermione explained.

" 'A' girlfriend?"

"Gabrielle is a bit of a free spirit," Hermione explained. Linda smiled.

"Oh, is she older or younger than Fleur?"

"A good bit younger, she's in her twenties," Hermione informed her.

"Damn. Just my luck."

xxxx

"I am back!" declared Gabrielle. "I bring lunch from 'La Traviata'!"

"And how did you leave Giselle?" Fleur asked her.

"Dazed and happy, help me with these things, please," Gabrielle asked Fleur. The sisters carried the bags into the kitchen together.

"Dear Lord," Linda whispered.

"Gorgeous together, aren't they?" Hermione asked proudly.

"To say the least. You've been here how long with the two of them?"

"Just over a week now, with the two of them."

"That is simply unfair. I spent the last week with the board. Inez Staunton is the only one of them that even has a pulse," Linda complained.

"Amazing, considering what she has to deal with. But she's okay with me, this has been the best time of my life," Hermione admitted.

"Hermione, it would have been the best time of anyone's life. My God, but they are beautiful."

"They are indeed, but as I said before about Fleur, their beauty is the least of them."

"Really Hermione, this is wonderful," Linda said, her eyes shining, "I knew things would work out."

"And so they did, and I thank you, especially for helping me through the dark times before. I never would have gotten through it without your support."

"You're my rainmaker, Hermione, got to take care of the star. Inez sends her regards." Hermione groaned.

"I don't suppose the Golden Child has elected to take up bricklaying?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"No, but he has signed up for Fleur's seminar," Linda said cautiously.

"Bollocks. Well, I'm sure we can deal with him. Have you any further bad news?"

"No, no more bad news. Enrollment is up for the undergraduates, and we can take our pick of graduate students. Care to see the list?"

"No, I trust your judgment, and if I can stand Roger Staunton I can stand anyone. I can't say I like him in the seminar though. The course that Fleur has laid out is quite advanced. Without prejudice, I simply don't think that he can handle it."

"His final paper was good," Linda reminded her.

"It was excellent, but his wand work is abysmal. He handles his wand like it was his, well…"

"Gotcha," assured Linda. "Will he pose any danger to himself or the other students?"

"I'm not sure; I will discuss it with Fleur. I hate to upset Mrs. Staunton after enjoying her marvelous bribe, but I can't allow him to put anyone at risk."

"Certainly not, and I will support your decision. You and Fleur will mean more to the institute over the coming years than she will. Sonny boy graduates this year, and I expect that her checkbook will go right along with him."

"With him, she's liable to need it," Hermione allowed.

"Lunch is ready," Fleur announced.

xxxx

"Thank you Gabrielle, that was marvelous!" Linda exclaimed as he placed her fork on the plate and leaned back in content.

"I am pleased that you enjoyed it. And now I must return the gratitude; Fleur very much loves the job you helped her to get."

"Glad to help. You do know that I still intend to get her for myself though, don't you?"

"Hermione may have something to say about that," Gabrielle answered with a grin.

"Oh! No! Not that! Hell, I'd never have a chance anyway, I meant for the school. I really want your sister on the faculty," Linda explained.

"She knows that Linda," Hermione told her. "Gabi is playful, that's all."

"I see, in any case Gabrielle, I want to thank you for getting these two together. Hermione is my dear friend as well as my colleague, and she loves your sister a great deal," Linda said sincerely.

"Hermione told you what I did?" Gabrielle asked, her eyebrows disappearing beneath her short bangs.

"Of course, she told me you forced things out into the open," Linda confirmed.

Hermione felt a trickle of ice water run down her spine.

"What exactly did she tell you?" Fleur asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

Hermione's head hit the table with a thump, and Linda cast an anxious glance at her.

"Ignore her," Fleur advised, "it is just something that she does."

"Well, she told me that Gabrielle asked her if she was in love with you, and that she said that she was, and that Gabrielle then got you all together at this very table and brought it all out into the open."

"I see," said Fleur.

"It was not precisely that way," Gabrielle explained, and her eyes were dancing.

Hermione began to bang her head on the table, and Linda stared at her, both surprised and concerned.

"Here," said Gabrielle, handing Linda a potholder, "Put this under her forehead. This is an expensive table."

"This is also something that she does," Fleur explained to the astonished dean.

"This is how it really happened," Gabrielle began.

The pounding on the table grew louder, despite the potholder.

Gabrielle and Fleur proceeded to relate to Linda an entirely factual, although discretely expurgated account of the events that had led up to Hermione confessing her love.

The main point, however, got through.

"Stop banging your head on the table and answer my questions," Linda demanded, "what the hell are you embarrassed about? If I found her in _my_ bed I'd take out an ad in the paper." Hermione ceased her efforts at manual Reducto.

"I get the perfume, and I understand how her touching you fit into your dream. Hell, I wish I would have a dream like that. But did you really push her away before you had an orgasm? Because that would be the saddest thing that I ever heard."

"Oh good God," muttered Hermione.

"Come on," encouraged Linda, "tell me how you missed the chance of a lifetime."

"Fine," snapped Hermione. "I'll tell you. No. I did not push her away before I'd had an orgasm. I came three times before I could move enough to touch her hair. Are you satisfied now?"

"Not as much as you," said Linda through a suddenly dry throat.

"I knew it!" exclaimed Gabrielle.

"Magnifique, Gabrielle," Fleur complimented.

"Will no merciful God…" began Hermione.

"Oh, shut up, Granger," said an irritated Linda. "Jesus H. Christ, any dyke I know would give a goddam leg to have your problem. This is just. Not. Fair. Two and a half months in paradise and this as well? You really pushed her away?"

"She did," confirmed Gabrielle.

"Christ. You are either more in love than anyone I have ever known or you are entirely too stupid to teach at my school."

"I am not stupid," Hermione promised, and the look she gave Fleur made Linda distinctly uneasy. And the look on Linda's face brought the first real laughter from Fleur in several days.

"Let us leave the happy couple to the dishes, Linda my new friend," suggested Gabrielle. "You are a guest, I bought lunch - the cleanup is for them. Come, I shall show you the secrets of St. Catherine's."

"Is it safe?" Linda asked Hermione.

"Safe?" Hermione answered as her own grin spread across her face. "That, I cannot promise; however you are in very good hands with Gabi."


	18. Chapter 18

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 18 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Rating: PG13

Summary: Departures and gifts

Warnings: Brief reference to past trauma

Word Count: 1938

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Eighteen

"Help me to the floo, Hermione," requested a very unsteady Dean Wilkes.

"Glad to," Hermione answered, "did you have a nice time?"

"If I die, I'll die happy," confirmed Linda. "Gabrielle is the most amazing woman I have ever met."

"Or ever will meet," Hermione promised. "So – what now for you two?"

"Nothing like you and Fleur," Linda told her, "hell, I don't think there has ever _been_ anything like you and Fleur. We mesh, and I absolutely adore her, but we aren't really a couple. But God do we get along… never, and I mean _never_-" Linda fell silent, and a dreamy expression possessed her face. "Brrrr," she said as she shook herself.

"I know what you mean," admitted Hermione.

"Anyway, I got in touch with someone I know and pulled a couple strings. You kids have the house for another week. But that's it. You get your delectable and overly fortunate ass back to work Monday week without fail, got it?" Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes.

"Why are you so nice to me?" Hermione asked.

"Because I love you too, and you're a damn good teacher, and because I can barely walk and it's been a long time since I hurt this good. Get Gabi to visit Hawaii and I'll owe you. Right now we're even. But not right away, okay? I'm gonna need a little downtime after this."

"Anything you say, boss," Hermione told her.

"Really Hermione, I've had the best time I can ever recall, and the best of it is that you and Fleur are together," Linda told her sincerely.

"Liar," Hermione smiled.

"Okay, the _second_ best of it. And I already owe you more than I'll ever live long enough to pay back. Imagine, me, and an angel…"

"Ready to go?"

"No, but I have to," Linda admitted, and she kissed Hermione and stepped into the fire.

xxxx

"Alas, tomorrow will be our last day here until next year," Fleur said as they all set the table for dinner.

"Not just yet," Hermione told them, "Linda worked some kind of magic and managed to get the house for next week as a present. I've already spoken with Robert, Fleur, and he's fine with you showing up a little late. I want you two to have some time with just each other though, so I'll leave on Wednesday. I had no idea who to contact about you, Gabi."

"I have much leave accumulated. It is always possible that I shall be called in of course, but they would not do so lightly. Leave is critical for us, as it is for professors," she explained.

"Why would she do such a thing?" Fleur asked, a bit stunned.

"Please," answered a very smug Gabrielle.

"I'm sure that's a big part of it," Hermione agreed. "Also, she meant it when she said that she was going to court Fleur. What is it like to be so sought after for your brains, Fleur my love?"

"I am unused to it; you must teach me how to handle this pressure. You are resolved to leave on Wednesday then?" Fleur felt a little panic and an impending sense of loss at the thought. But then she realized the wisdom of this choice. The realities of life were going to part them for a time, like it or not. This way the pain of Hermione leaving would be blunted by still having Gabrielle with her, and Gabrielle could see how she got on here without Hermione as a distraction here on St. Catherine's. "I see now your plan, my sweet," Fleur told her, "you are as wise as you are beautiful."

"But not as she is passionate," Gabrielle declared. "Remind me to return your little noise machine before you go. And please get some more songs. That one is lovely, but a bit sad sometimes. Honestly, two such capable witches should do a better job with silencing charms."

"They spoil the echo," Fleur explained. Hermione wasn't even embarrassed; two weeks around Gabrielle had made a fundamental change in what it took to embarrass her. Besides, Fleur had a point.

"I didn't even know there was another week available," Hermione admitted.

"There are two. It is all very complicated with taxes and regulations about 'primary residence' and all sorts of other nonsense, but Gabrielle and I have to pay rent for the time we spend here. The house is never leased for less than a full month to anyone else, because the agency and I felt that this would be best for the property. However we cannot afford more than one week each, so the house has two weeks empty. In time we will be able to afford more."

"What does a week cost you?" asked Hermione. Fleur told her. "Ahh, well I don't have that much left in the budget this year, but if you like I could cover another week here for us next summer." Hermione realized with pleasure that she had not the least bit of doubt that they expected her to be here with them from now on.

"Mervelieux!" Gabrielle exclaimed. "We shall be the Three Muffketeers!"

"_Mus_keteers," Hermione corrected automatically.

"I did not misspeak," Gabi said, one eyebrow sharply arched.

"Delightfully crude, ma belle soeur," Fleur complimented, "even for you. But the sentiment is admirable. We shall build a new tradition together, keep what we wish of the old times, and allow everything else to pass from memory." Hermione and Gabrielle looked quickly at her.

"Even that," Fleur replied to the unspoken question. "Perhaps never truly forgotten, but in time it will simply be an extremely unpleasant thing that happened. It was worse for Papa than me in any case, he had not the help and support that I do. But that is enough talk of things past; we must plan for our adventures next year. Hermione, I believe that the situation calls for your advanced potion-making skills. I shall hollow out the pineapples, Gabrielle, the coconut is your job."

"Bien," agreed Gabrielle, "Hermione, I shall put the coconut at your place at the table. Do not forget your potholder."

xxxx

Fleur awoke suddenly, with a scream building in her throat, but she bit it off and forced herself to stillness. She felt Hermione warm against her side, and she recalled where she was and who was with her, and she smiled. Gently she moved the hand that fit her breast so naturally down to her waist and held it with her own. A moment later she was back asleep.

"We will get there, my love," was her parting promise as she entered the realm of Morpheus. Hermione and Gabrielle were waiting for her there.

xxxx

Gabrielle knocked on the doorjamb of Hermione's room.

"Come on in Gabi, I'm just finishing packing," Hermione responded.

"I return to you your noise machine," Gabrielle said as she handed Hermione her player. "Also your nightgown," she shrugged, but neither one of them blushed. They were past things like that between them now; they utterly adored one another, and trusted one another without reservation. "Remember to practice as often as you can, and do the exercises that I gave you. I shall check your progress when we gather at your home this Christmas."

"Yes Ma'am," promised Hermione.

Gabrielle had been teaching both Hermione and Fleur a few basic yet brutally effective techniques for defending themselves, as well as a routine to increase their strength.

"You cannot attach your wand to your hand with a permanent sticking charm," she had explained. "Well I suppose that you could, but it would be very inconvenient at times. I promise you that being stronger will benefit every aspect of your lives as well. Now, attendez-moi…"she had said.

Hermione and Fleur had attendez'd as hard as they could. When Gabrielle got serious with them they knew better than to argue.

Hermione was still a bit sore from the unaccustomed exercise, but she could already tell that Gabrielle was correct; it would help every aspect of her life. Especially once Fleur was whole again.

"Thank you for helping Fleur," Gabrielle said thickly. "I can never repay you for this. I have for some time seen a shadow over her, but I thought it was merely Bill. With you, Fleur, my sister, mon soleil, will shine as she should." She kissed Hermione softly. "A' bientot, my other heart," she whispered.

xxxx

"One month, it will be one month before I see you again," Fleur said as she held Hermione tightly.

"But only one, and then we have two weeks together, well, apart from the kiddies that is," Hermione corrected herself. "And we will have Christmas, and the spring break, and next summer here for three weeks," she reminded Fleur, although she already felt a hole in her middle at the thought of not having Fleur beside her. "Besides, once you get back to your giant trees and your work and your oriental vixen I doubt that I shall enter your thoughts at all."

"You are of course correct," Fleur agreed, smiling despite no longer having a floor beneath her feet. "I shall scarcely notice you are gone. And you are merely going from one beach to another, and doubtless there is some young, budding, flower awaiting you, needing only your touch to make her bloom into her full glory as a woman. No doubt my arrival for the seminar will be more of an inconvenience than anything else."

"There is this one graduate student…" Hermione said reluctantly.

They had to make light of it. They were both worried about how they would handle the separation, but life does indeed go on, and they had responsibilities and obligations and the same need to make a living as anyone else, in love or not

"I have something for you," Hermione said, suddenly awkward.

"What more can you give me?"

Hermione held out a small velvet box and opened it. Inside was a gold locket, not very much like Hermione's, but perfectly suited to Fleur.

"Gabi helped me to pick it out," Hermione told her.

Fleur took it up with trembling hands, and tripped the small catch. Inside were two pictures, one of Hermione, and one of Gabrielle. As Fleur looked at the images they moved, shifted, and Fleur's own image joined them, and Gabrielle was holding her, and then Hermione. There was a rather risqué image of Hermione and Gabrielle together that brought a laugh through Fleur's tears, a brief vignette of Hermione's head thudding on the table, and a stark image of Gabrielle watching over the two of them as they slept on the couch.

"This is perfect," Fleur whispered.

"You are never without us," Hermione vowed, "not truly. I have also put a spell on this that will allow us to find you at any time, in any place. You can invoke it whenever you wish by holding it in your hand and speaking our names and whoever you call will come at once to your side. If it is ever removed by any hand other than your own, we will both arrive at once. You are never without us."

Hermione fastened the fine chain around Fleur's neck, and the locket pulsed brightly for an instant and then settled warmly into its new home.

No further words were needed between them, and they kissed tenderly before Hermione stepped into the flames.

"Come," Gabrielle said as she strode briskly into the room, "you are already getting fat and lazy. Come."

Fleur shook off her melancholy and followed her fierce little sister into the sunlight.


	19. Chapter 19

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 19 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Rating: PG13

Summary: Revelations, resolutions, answers

Warnings: None to speak of

Word Count: 1780

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Nineteen

The days alone together did indeed prove beneficial for Fleur and Gabrielle. Together they gave their house a top-to-bottom cleaning using both magic and elbow grease, a symbolic and literal clearing of the cobwebs of the past.

Everything was in order, and they stood together before the fireplace, their belongings tidily packed and neatly shrunk into their small bags.

"Next year I shall bring pictures of Maman and Papa," Fleur decided.

"Bonne idée," Gabrielle agreed. "Your Hermione…" Gabrielle began, "she is good for you, I can see this. She can give you the things that I cannot."

"Gabrielle mon couer, she is _our_ Hermione, and you can also give me the things that _she_ cannot. With the two of you I am complete," Fleur held her sister tightly.

"I am sorry that I was not there when you needed me," Gabrielle whispered.

"You were not yet born, my Heraclean sister," Fleur reminded her, and she placed her hand over her locket, "and now no harm like that can ever come to me again. I have but to wish it, and the Bolts of Zeus himself shall respond to my call!"

For one brief instant Fleur saw the other side of her sister, but rather than scare her, it filled her with warmth. "Bolts of Zeus" was not much exaggeration.

"Oui," agreed Gabrielle as her impish smile reappeared, "I am truly as the lightning. Dazzling and dangerous! You do know that Hermione desires me greatly, and will eventually succumb, do you not?"

"Certainement, one cannot forever hold back the tides," Fleur shrugged, "as I said, perhaps for your birthday some year. I shall yield to the inevitable gracefully, so long as I may observe this miracle."

"But of course," Gabrielle granted graciously, "how else will you learn?

Veela really were a little different, once you _really_ got to know them.

Smiling, they stepped into the fire together.

xxxx

"Inez, I understand that you are thrilled that your son's work has improved. So am I, that's what teachers live for, but this seminar is extremely advanced. The work Professor Delacour is doing at WMD will change the face of magic forever, and Roger is simply not up to it. That is not a denigration, very few are," Dean Wilkes explained patiently.

"But he has shown such progress, Linda. And he has never before expressed any interest at all in doing anything beyond merely scraping by!"

"I suspect that his interest has more to do with Professor Delacour than anything else, Inez. If she isn't the most beautiful woman in the world, she'll serve admirably until the prizewinner comes along."

"I'm already funding this program, but is there anything _more_ I can do to convince you?" Mrs. Staunton pleaded, her eyes straying to her handbag.

"Whoa, Inez," Linda told her. "It's one thing to make a gift to the school, but that is quite another, and since it's out in the open I can't even pretend that I didn't know. That could, and should, cost me my job and my career. I'm sorry, and I know you love your son, but I have to back Professor Granger's decision. She is the one who decides who gets in. I assume that you aren't prepared to challenge _her_ qualifications."

"Of course not," admitted Staunton, "but may I at least speak with her? Even if I can't persuade her to change her mind I'd like to meet her. She's already done more for Roger than any other teacher ever has."

"That much I can do," allowed Dean Wilkes, "I'll see if she's available."

xxxx

"Gabrielle! How nice to see you, did you enjoy your leave?" asked Gustav Killy, Gabrielle's Section Chief.

"Oui, it was wonderful, I return fit and ready for duty," Gabrielle assured him.

"That was never in question," he said with a wave of his hand. Gabrielle was one of the finest operatives he had ever served with, and he had her firmly in mind to succeed him as chief when he retired. "What can I do for you, Gabi?"

"I have some questions about my father," Gabrielle told him. He looked at her sharply, Killy was nobody's fool, and he picked up on the edge in her voice.

"Of course," he said as he gestured to a chair, "sit, ask. Your father was my friend, and I have had very few friends."

"I also have some questions about my father's brother." Gustav paled, and he rubbed his face briskly with his hands.

"So, you have found out," he said heavily.

"Oui."

It never occurred to him to deny, nor to ask how she had found out. Gabrielle Delacour was a professional of the highest order, a woman who regularly placed herself in dire peril to secure the rights and safety of others. As such she was accorded absolute respect by her superior.

"You father called me when it happened," he began, "I was not Section Chief then, of course. I was then as you are now, the rising star, as they say. Your mother was completely hysterical, and who could blame her? We see many horrible things, but this is among the worst." He paused for a moment to collect himself, and Gabrielle sat quietly waiting. "Your father explained the events calmly, and said that he wanted me to be the one to arrest him. He asked only that I be sure that your mother and sister received proper care. It was I who persuaded him to allow me to conceal this. How could I deprive your mother and your sister of his presence, to say nothing of the mess the press would make of it? To be sure, he would likely have been acquitted, but at what cost? And for what? A piece of filth that was unfit to bear the name Delacour? I called medical and arranged discrete and competent care for your mother and your sister. I convinced him it would be best. Perhaps I was wrong; perhaps it would have been better to get it all out in the open when it first happened. I cannot know this. I only know that then I could not allow my friend to be hauled into the courts for simply doing what needed to be done." He fell silent.

"I would have done the same," Gabrielle said at last. "Perhaps mother and father should have sought treatment for Fleur, but from what I have learned, even then her mind was a singular thing. Perhaps they thought that she had suffered no lasting harm. In any case, it is past, and my sister will heal in time. She is extraordinary."

"Of that I have no doubt. Your father asked me not to tell you of this, but of course there can be no lies between us." That went largely without saying, peril shared at the level these two did required a trust akin only to great love. In point of fact there was little difference at the level of the soul.

"I have only one question more," Gabrielle told him.

"Ask," Killy said simply.

"Did my father finish it?" Gustav Killy smiled, but it was a smile that few would have understood. Gabrielle, of course, understood it perfectly.

"He was the most comprehensively dead son-of-a-bitch I have ever seen."

"Bien," said Gabrielle as she stood. "Find me something to do, please, Gustav. I am restless."

xxxx

"A pleasure to meet you at last, Professor Granger," Inez Staunton said as she rose and extended her hand.

"Thank you Mrs. Staunton, for me as well," Hermione replied politely. "I understand that you wanted to speak with me about something?"

"Please sit, Professor," Inez invited. Hermione took a seat, as did Staunton. "It's about my son of course," she began. "First I want to thank you for actually getting him to at least try and live up to his potential. He's a bright young man, but rather – willful."

"_Spoiled rotten, more like,"_ Hermione thought, but she said nothing,

"Roger desperately wants to attend Professor Delacour's seminar. Can't you see your way clear to allowing him to? It would mean so much to him." Inez Staunton was only a fool when it came to her son, and she could plainly see that if she had appended, 'and perhaps to you', to that statement, that Professor Granger would simply have walked out without a word.

"Mrs. Staunton, you must understand that this seminar concerns magical elements that did not even _exist_ a very few years ago. There are many schools that would have not even one student who would be qualified to attend. Roger has made surprising progress, yes, but forgive me for saying that he was starting from a bit of a hole when he got here. And frankly, while his grasp of theory is adequate and his ability to articulate it is well above standard, his wand work is almost perilous," Hermione told her plainly but not cruelly.

"His father was the same," Staunton admitted tiredly, "some wizards think that thing between their legs is the real magic wand, and they handle the genuine article the same way." She heaved a huge sigh. "I respect your honesty and integrity, Professor. Maybe if I'd made the little punk stand on his own two legs long ago, it would have made a difference. I know better than to try and buy you, and likely that's what has really caused his problems. But his father died young and he's my whole world. I just didn't really know how best to help him. I've got a shitload of money and a heart full of love, but I fucked up with him. No way around that I guess. Love makes you do stupid shit sometimes. I'll let myself out, thanks for your time."

Inez Staunton mustered her considerable dignity, stood, inclined her head respectfully to the two educators and headed for the door.

"Mrs. Staunton," Hermione called, and Inez Staunton turned to her. "I'll approve him to attend. He will have to do the work like anyone else, and if he screws up I'll throw him out on his ear or wherever else he happens to land, and I promise you that Professor Delacour will do the same. But love does indeed make you do stupid shit from time to time, and as a woman I simply cannot turn my back on your love for your son."

Tears rolled down Inez Staunton's cheeks as she looked at the woman before her, she struggled to find words to express her gratitude, and at last she simply yielded to instinct.

"Kick his ass, Professor Granger. It's long overdue."


	20. Chapter 20

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 20 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Rating: PG13

Summary: Closure for some, Confidences for others

Warnings: Reference to past traumatic events

Word Count: 1340

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Twenty

It was midnight in the old cemetery, the gates were securely locked, and the elaborate wards were in place around this resting place of the oldest wizarding families of France.

That made no difference at all to the shadow that glided over the wall and across the grounds without the merest whisper of protest from the magical protections. Even the grass seemed unaware of the shadow moving silently and swiftly over it.

The shadow stopped in front of a large and elaborate mausoleum, and laid a gloved hand on the name "Delacour" that was chiseled into the stone.

The shadow drew a key from a pocket, unlocked the bronze door and entered, closing the door after, and lighting a small candle on the wall.

"Lumos," whispered Gabrielle. She knew exactly where to go, here in this resting place of her ancestors, and she soon stood before the newest of the carved marble seals on the niches that cradled the ashes of her family. She removed her gloves and laid her hand on her father's name.

"Papa, I come to tell you that I know, that I understand, to tell you that Fleur has found true happiness, that she will be well, be whole. Please tell Maman for me, but tonight is for us alone. I am proud of you Papa; I know how it must have hurt you. But you did what needed to be done. No one could have done more, and you doubtless spared many others from this pain that we must share. But we will carry on, Fleur and I, and we will be useful and happy, we will give and receive love, and what more can there be?"

Gabrielle reached to the throat of the black covering that she wore, and removed the small golden pin that was the insignia of her division. It was a simple gold shield that bore the image of a wand crossed with a knife and the legend "Ce Qui Doit Etre Fait", and very few had ever earned the right to wear it. She muttered a spell and then slammed the spike of the pin into the marble above her father's name, fastening it there as permanently as anything done by mortal hands could be.

"I am proud of you Papa," she repeated, "I shall proudly bear your name."

She left, locking the door behind her, and the shadow departed as silently as it had come.

Within the resting place of the Delacours, a small gold shield glittered in the candlelight, and two troubled souls found rest at last.

xxxx

"Welcome back, Fleur," Robert greeted her exuberantly; "I've missed you. How was vacation?"

"Extraordinary," Fleur admitted as she hugged him.

"She didn't say so, but may I assume that the redoubtable Professor Hermione Granger had much to do with that?"

"Of course you may assume so, Robert," Fleur granted. "One may assume what one wishes, it is the proof that makes the theory valid, however."

"Granted. So?"

"She is my one," Fleur admitted, and she found herself swept up in a hug that felt as if one of the great trees was embracing her.

"You two must have children," Robert said fervently, "you know we have a team working on that. God, what I would give to see that baby, and of course, to have your child enrolled here when it's time."

"Calm down my dear friend," Fleur encouraged him, "we can scarcely reproduce while so far apart, no matter the magical science. It would not be fair to the bebe. Besides, I am by no means sure that I am willing to share her with so imperious a creature as an infant."

"Sorry dear, I'm just happy for you. But that would be some baby. I wanted Professor Granger for WMD, alas, another great mind seduced by the siren song of a perfect climate."

"She will come and visit, perhaps the magic of our great trees will hold her here," Fleur ventured.

"Girlfriend, if the magic of _you_ doesn't hold her here, a few big trees won't either. Now, is there anything else we need to talk about before you get back to work?"

Fleur tensed for an instant, but then she realized that Hermione would never have told anyone about the events they had uncovered without asking. The question was simply Robert being truly interested in her, not prying, and certainly not a boilerplate empty question.

Robert was a genuine friend.

"Non, I must go and visit my tree friends, and then I shall devote my meager talents to our beloved WMD," she declared.

"Meager my ass," he responded with a smile. "We got the grant. Magicorp is positively _drooling_ over your proposal."

"Vraiment?" gasped Fleur.

"Damn straight, I have the most vicious lawyers I could find working out the final terms, and you should get your own representation as well. Magicorp didn't get that big by giving anything away, and they'll try to slip things past us. But if we're smart and careful this will make a real difference both for WMD and you personally. It will be the work of years of course, but I feel sure we'll get there. Perhaps your brilliant partner could give us a hand?"

"You and Linda, you never give up, either of you," Fleur said, shaking her head and smiling.

"Nope. Never. Now scoot, term starts in a week, and you've got plenty to do."

Fortunately, both Fleur and Hermione had finished all of their planning over the summer, and so neither of them was frantic. They were however quite busy, a state that helped distract them from their separation. Sometimes for a few entire minutes at a stretch. But they each had their locket and their memories and a few assorted articles of clothing, so they got by.

Fleur found her friends the trees a vastly soothing presence, and combined with the rest they kept the terror that as yet still lurked around the corners of her dreams at bay. Fleur and Hermione and Gabrielle corresponded regularly, and fire-called less frequently, because Fleur had to go to the nearby town's magic center to use a floo as WMD was not on that grid. And all of them felt that the communication options afforded by technology felt cold and impersonal. Witches have their quirks like anyone else.

Fleur would always begin her letters and calls by telling them that she was doing well so that they did not have to ask and could spend the time on more pleasant things, and she truly was. But occasionally during the day a shadow would pass across Fleur's face, and this did not long go unnoticed by Robert.

"I won't ask what, Fleur, but I can see that something is bothering you. I'm here if you need me," he said simply. Fleur did need him, and she went with him to his office and told him some of the things that had transpired over the summer. Robert displayed neither shock nor outrage; he just sat beside her and listened until she was done.

"First, I am deeply touched and honored that you trust me enough to confide in me like this, Fleur. I am also grateful that you have two such extraordinary women in your life. Next, your willingness to do this is a very positive sign that you are healing, especially since for you the experience is so fresh and raw. It took me many years before I could talk about what happened to me as a child," he explained. He nodded in answer to the question on Fleur's face. "Not a family member, but someone my parents trusted. There are far too many people like us, and you and I are two of the luckier ones. We each have people we trust that we know love us, and now we have each other too."

"Does it ever go away?"

"Enough. It goes away enough," he said, and gently held her hand for a while,

Fleur really did like it there.


	21. Chapter 21

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 21 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Rating: R (mild)

Summary: Seminars, assignments, and reality checks

Warnings: Reference to past traumatic events

Word Count: 1560

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Twenty-one

"You wanted to see me, Professor Granger?"

"Indeed, have a seat please, Mr. Staunton." He sat.

"Professor Delacour's seminar starts Monday, I hope you realize."

"Yes Professor, I'm quite looking forward to it."

"As well you should be. Tell me, why do you think that I am allowing you to attend?" Hermione asked.

It was on the tip of his tongue to say 'My rugged good looks', but even he wasn't _that_ foolish.

"My mother, I suppose, Professor," he said honestly.

"Quite correct Mr. Staunton, you are indeed once again being granted an opportunity that you do not deserve, and did not _earn_, because of your mother. But it's a bit different this time. This time it is not your mother's checkbook that gets you this chance, but her heart. You see Mr. Staunton, for some reason that woman still has hopes for you, and she loves you a great deal, and for the sake of that love you are getting, _again_, an unearned privilege."

Staunton wisely remained silent; he would save his crowing for later.

"It is also different because you are most assuredly going to have to earn the right to _stay_ in this program. This is not going to be an opportunity for you to sit and stare at Professor Delacour. You will report to my classroom promptly at 8 AM the morning following each and every session of this seminar, where you will be tested on the previous day's material. Should you miss a single session, skip or be late to a single exam, or fall below sixty percent on any of these tests that it shall be your sole privilege to take; you will be immediately barred from further sessions. You will also receive a failing grade on your transcript, not that that will concern you overmuch. Should you somehow adhere to these conditions you will then have the honor of sitting the final examination with your fellow students. Have you any questions?"

"This isn't fair!" he blurted.

"It isn't fair that you are attending at all. And please Mr. Staunton, if you aren't even going to try, just don't bother at all. It is also unfair that I am going to have to devote a fair bit of my free time to compiling and marking your special tests. That is all, Mr. Staunton; I shall regard your appearance at the first session as your acceptance of these conditions." Hermione returned to her papers, Staunton stared for a brief moment and then walked out to floo call his mother.

xxxx

"Stop whining Roger," Inez Staunton said in exasperation. "It wasn't cute when you were five and it's downright ludicrous now. You wanted in, I got you in. Man up, for crying out loud. It's my fault for coddling you so long, and now that's done too. I won't let you starve, but if you screw this up you'll have to settle for a job you can get on your own, got it?" She vanished from the fire.

"Oh, _balls!_" moaned Roger.

xxxx

"You're here!" exclaimed Hermione as she rushed to Fleur and threw her arms around her.

"Oui," agreed Fleur, "you are as sharp as ever, I see."

It was a bit hard for either of them to see at the moment, but they didn't mind.

"We have so much to do…" Hermione began.

"Tomorrow," Fleur told her just before their lips met.

xxxx

Information had reached Gabrielle's division that a pocket of surviving Death Eaters were planning to track down any former Order of the Phoenix members and supporters who had left the continent and were therefore absent the protections the surviving Order members and their confreres had in Europe.

"I believe that you will find this assignment gratifying, Gabrielle," Killy said as he slid the folder across his desk to her. Even Gustav shivered a bit at the look that came to her face as she read the report.

"Most gratifying indeed, Chief Killy. Who is in charge of this matter?"

"This one is for you, Gabrielle; your promotion has come through. The teams are yours, take whom you wish. This sort of behaviour must be vigorously discouraged; we cannot have stray Death Eaters disturbing our friends overseas."

"Certainement pas," she agreed.

None of the expatriate members of the Order were ever aware that they had been potential targets for revenge.

After a large and heavy parcel was delivered anonymously to Malfoy Manor, none of them ever were again.

xxxx

Fleur and Hermione spent Sunday together finalizing things for Monday's session, and they enjoyed working together nearly as much as sleeping in each others arms. There had been no incidents during the night, and both of them were deeply content. Even after Hermione had explained the situation regarding Roger Staunton.

"Very well, I of course support your decision, especially the reasons for it. We shall see how this child of privilege enjoys wetting his toes in the sea of reality, n'est ce pas?"

Ten AM Monday found eleven eager faces, and Roger Staunton, seated in the front rows of Hermione's classroom.

"Witches and wizards, it is my great honor to present the visiting professor for this seminar on Advanced Charms Theory, Professor Fleur Delacour of Washington Magical Development."

Fleur stood, and Hermione smiled at the expressions on the faces of the students.

"Thank you Professor Granger," Fleur began, "I believe that all of you have the handout for this course, and I hope that you have read it thoroughly. The things that we shall study together are extremely advanced; indeed, a small part of what we will examine is still strictly experimental. What I hope that you will gain from this is a new appreciation of what magic can be, if you open yourself to new possibilities." She gave her dazzling smile, and a girl in the front row whimpered a bit, but was politely ignored; if anyone other than Fleur or Hermione had even heard her that is.

"Let us begin…"

xxxx

"Congratulations Mr. Staunton, I'll see you in class," Hermione said as she returned his examination to him just prior to the start of the second session. Sixty-five percent.

"Thank you professor," he said.

xxxx

"This is not St. Catherine's," Fleur admitted, but I like it here."

"It will do," Hermione admitted, "but I can kiss you on the beach at St. Catherine's. I like it better there."

"Moi aussi. Suddenly I have had enough sun, Professor Granger. Let us prepare for the final week of class."

"As you say, Professor Delacour…"

xxxx

Twelve students sat the exam at the conclusion of the seminar, and Roger Staunton's score placed him dead last of them, but he sat up all night staring at the first thing he had ever truly earned by his own efforts.

_Roger Staunton never came to visit Hermione Granger in the years that she taught after his graduation. Never sent her a card or a letter. He did however finish with decent grades and enter a graduate program in business, and subsequently became a very effective head of Staunton Enterprises. _

_The very day that Roger Staunton assumed control of the empire that his father had built Staunton Enterprises announced the construction of the Hermione Jean Granger Library at the Hawaiian Institute for Advanced Magical Studies. Hermione's personal office within the library was a marvel, and contained memorabilia from many different witches and wizards. Prominent among them were eyeglasses from Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Harry Potter himself. There was a set of robes that had belonged to Severus Snape, and signed first editions of works by Adelthwaite Gamp and the original, albeit badly damaged, formula for the philosopher's stone written in Nicholas Flamel's own hand. There was a crystal ball with a large chip in it, unlabeled, but Hermione thought that she knew whose it was, a baton that Filius Flitwick had used to conduct the Hogwarts chorus. There was a desk with rambunctious tendencies that was secured to the wall by a tartan scarf, and a very old broomstick with a slender handle of silvery wood, a moth-gnawed tea cozy, and much more besides._

_ There was even a battered old diary with a hole through it, jammed into a small case in the corner with a hand-written card that said, "Not worth mentioning save as a bad example."_

_ The library itself was the envy of every institution in the magical world, and Hermione even got over being embarrassed by the statue of herself in the entry way that depicted her sitting at her desk 'explaining' something. It was a pose that all of her students knew very well._

_ Staunton Enterprises also held a majority interest in Magicorp, and the contract that was eventually signed by Magicorp, WMD, and Fleur Isabelle Delacour was a positive wonder of fairness. _

_The little punk really did know how to say thank you after all._

xxxx

"I don't want you to leave," Hermione admitted as she held Fleur tightly.

"I don't want to leave _you_," Fleur returned, "but I confess that I miss my trees. You must come and meet them. There is the upcoming American Thanksgiving holiday…"

"I'll be there," promised Hermione.

"And I shall be thankful," Fleur told her, just before she knelt and began to unfasten Hermione's jeans. "Once more please, just for love," she breathed against the skin of Hermione's belly.


	22. Chapter 22

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 22 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Rating: R (mild)

Summary: Hermione meets the trees, a step is taken

Warnings: Brief reference to past traumatic events

Word Count: 1950

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Twenty-two

Hermione arrived by portkey at WMD. There were no wood fires here, and no fireplaces. Fleur swept her up in her arms, hugged her until she squeaked, and then proceeded to practically drag her over to meet some of her colleagues.

"Professor Granger, we meet at last!" exclaimed Dean Clark.

"Dean Clark, Professor Hermione Granger; Robert, Hermione," Fleur pronounced, her eyes sparkling with joy.

"A pleasure to meet you, Dean Clark," Hermione said as she took his offered hand, "Fleur speaks most highly of you."

"The name is Robert," he insisted, "we don't stand on ceremony here. You know, I can't even hold a grudge against Linda for stealing you from me. No one school deserves to have you both," he stated. "However, I am prepared at any time to give you your own department here."

"They never stop, do they," Hermione asked Fleur, "Linda and he?"

"Nope, and we never will," Clark answered for her. "I'll leave it to Fleur to show you around, Hermione, but again, I'm honored to meet you. Frankly, it does my old heart good to see the two of you together; nobody else deserves either one of you."

Hermione decided that she quite liked Robert Clark.

"Come, you must meet the others," Fleur insisted as she took Hermione's hand.

Everyone there already knew who Hermione was of course, either by her own reputation or through Fleur. Hermione felt that she already knew many of them as well, and she had to admit that the place was decidedly relaxing and welcoming. All of Fleur's colleagues greeted her warmly. Well… nearly all.

"Hermione, this is Lilac, Lilac, my Hermione," Fleur introduced them with one of her best smiles.

Lilac stared at Hermione mutely, one brow arched, and Hermione returned her gaze levelly. Fleur was just beginning to feel the tiniest bit uneasy when Lilac's face bloomed into what even Hermione had to admit was a most impressive smile.

"I agree, Fleur, my dear friend. This woman was created especially for you. Forgive my initial greeting please, Hermione. I am an empath, and I wanted to be sure that you are good for my friend. Fleur is precious to all of us here."

"Anyone who cares for _my_ Fleur is on my good list," Hermione said cautiously. The emphasis was not lost on Lilac of course.

"I admit it, I tried, but can you blame me? Fleur, have not others both men and women pursued this fabulous creature that you have ensnared?"

A familiar twinkle appeared in Fleur's eyes, and Hermione knew a moment of real fear.

_"Please, my love,"_ she begged silently,"_not the Gabrielle story…"_

"Beyond all doubt," Fleur agreed, "but what I have won with such effort I shall yield to no one!"

"No doubt she feels the same," Lilac replied. "I concede, Hermione, but there was never any real battle to begin with. Her heart has always been yours. May we be friends?"

"I should very much like that," Hermione replied. "But I have to confess that in your company I feel very plain and dumpy indeed. You are quite beautiful, even to me, and I have _extremely_ high standards," Hermione told her as she turned her gaze on Fleur.

"This one knows the game," Lilac said with a smile. "Let us just be friends united in our admiration and respect for Fleur. Confidentially, Robert has told me to do whatever I can to convince you to come here, but I shall not, I need no such competition here."

"Enough, you two cats!" Fleur chided. "Come beloved; let us get you settled in before dinner."

"I was ready to hate her," Hermione admitted as they headed for Fleur's cabin, "but she's really nice, isn't she?"

"She is. Everyone here is. I have never been in a place like this, no real jealousy, no backbiting. It is a truly soothing place to be."

"Do you want me to come here?"

"I want you to be where you are happy in your work. We have to work, and it is best that we earn our living where we are most comfortable, best suited. There can never be enough time together, and as long as we must work we should do it where we are happy in that work, n'est ce pas? I love you with all that I am, but I would not take you from your sunshine against your will. You must meet my trees, yes, but they do not have to be _your_ trees, do you see?"

"I do. Is there time before dinner for us to have a little appetizer? I've missed you."

"Of course, and I promise not to miss _you…_"

The meal was wonderful, and it was both Hermione and Fleur's first experience of a traditional American Thanksgiving.

"No wonder the Colonists won the Revolution," Hermione groaned, "they were better fed."

"Not so," promised Robert. "Truth to tell the original Thanksgiving feast was likely a few wormy ears of corn and a slow-moving buzzard. But what's the fun in serving that? Fleur has been telling me tales about this island of hers, is it everything she says?"

"You've been to Linda's school, right?" Hermione asked him.

"Not often enough, but yes," he admitted.

"St. Catherine's is better."

"Damn."

"Are you and Linda related, by any chance?" Hermione asked him.

"Who knows? Okay, I promised Fleur that I wouldn't hound you about coming here, and I won't. But is there any chance that I could convince you to conduct a seminar on Legilimency here?"

Hermione turned quickly to Fleur.

"Oui, I told him. He is a true friend; also…" Fleur began, and she caught Robert's eyes and received a small nod in return, "also, we have that in common."

"I'm very sorry, Robert," Hermione said gently, "but now you have each other as friends, and me, if you will allow it."

"It's just a very old scar for me, now," he said, "but I can always use a friend. I know a bit about Legilimency myself, and what Fleur described to me was remarkable. I've never been able to see anything but a series of still images. And to actually be able to influence the memories…"

"That isn't always achievable," Hermione assured him, "it was primarily our love and Fleur's trust in me that made that possible. And of course, the beauty and elegance of how her mind is organized. But I would be pleased to come here and share what I know."

"She is just being modest," Fleur said proudly, "she is without peer in this area."

"Pumpkin pie?" offered Lilac.

"You're trying to make me fat, aren't you?" Hermione accused.

"Now why would I do that?" Lilac purred.

"No, Hermione," Fleur said decisively, "I do not want you to come and teach here. This ceaseless catfighting would drive me mad!"

"Way to go, Lilac," muttered Dean Clark.

_"Thank you,"_ mouthed Fleur and Hermione to Lilac.

Lilac winked a very lovely eye in return.

The following day was devoted to introducing Hermione to Fleur's friends the trees.

"I never imagined…" Hermione said in awe, "I've read about them, of course, but…"

"Mere words cannot hold them," Fleur agreed, "they greeted me as their child the moment I walked beneath their branches."

"I think that you might really sort of_ be_ their child, Fleur," Hermione said as she gazed on the ancient giants.

"How do you mean?"

"The Veela, before they began to mingle with humans, didn't they live in forests?" Hermione asked.

"Oui, there are still many Veela living deep in the forests back home. My Aunt Ariel lives in such a place," Fleur confirmed.

"There is something different here, something I can't quite identify, I feel almost as if the trees are talking to you, trying to tell you something…" Hermione's face took on a dreamy expression.

"My love?" Fleur questioned.

"I wonder…" Hermione whispered. Slowly she took up her wand and pointed it at the great tree before her.

_"Legilimens…"_

Fleur watched in fascination as Hermione tried to reach the mind of a tree. Hermione stared fixedly at the giant, and after several minutes gave a little shiver and made the 'tutting' sound that Fleur knew meant she was a bit frustrated.

"Thanks for not laughing," Hermione told Fleur, "I didn't expect much, and I didn't get much, but…"

"Oui?" encouraged Fleur.

"I would almost swear there is some sort of awareness there, it is just too different for me to understand. As strange as it feels to say it, I believe that these trees remember Veela, and actually sort of miss them…" She gave Fleur a rueful little smile and a shrug of her shoulders. "Are you going to call medical?"

"Non, but I am going to write to Aunt Ariel, perhaps there is something in the histories they have there that will shed some light on this. I shall also invite her to visit, to see if she feels these trees as I do. Such a possibility must be explored, even though few would lend it credence," Fleur told her.

"I know someone I bet would, though, and so do you," Hermione told her.

"Luna."

Hermione and Fleur hurried into town, and as was to be expected the magic center was holiday busy. But they were at last able to get to a floo and Luna was fortunately at home. Also as expected, she betrayed not the least bit of surprise, neither at Fleur and Hermione being a couple, nor at the tentative question Hermione asked regarding the trees.

"That's very interesting, and of course I'd love to come and meet these trees. We'll arrange a time in the spring, they're sleepy now. I expect that's why you had trouble understanding them, Hermione. I'm happy for you both as well; I was starting to think that I was going to have to take a hand in getting you two together. Honestly, for brilliant witches you've both been a bit thick, haven't you? It's been lovely talking with you again, goodbye for now; I'll see you in the spring." Luna smiled and was gone.

As always after hearing Luna render the absurd mundane, Hermione was a little dazed.

"Excuse me," asked a witch who was trying to mask her impatience, "but are you done with the fire? I'd like to make a call myself."

"Oh, sorry, yes, it's all yours," Hermione answered, and she and Fleur returned to Fleur's home.

"Another parting approaches," Fleur said sadly, as she held Hermione close to her in their bed.

"That just means that another reunion will follow," Hermione said logically.

"True, I shall try and think of it like that. Christmas is coming, and Gabi will join us. There is much to look forward to."

"We should get her something special from the two of us, something to let her know how much we love her," Hermione said as she nuzzled Fleur's neck.

"That is exactly what I have been thinking," Fleur agreed. "And now I have something to ask of you, my beloved…"

"I was thinking more along the lines of a locket like the ones we have," Hermione finally managed to respond.

"We shall do that as well," Fleur agreed, "just consider this. But not now, now we must think only of each other."

Fleur rolled Hermione onto her back, and soon Hermione couldn't really think at all. She did come back to full reality though when Fleur placed Hermione's hand on her breast and held it there for a time. Hermione felt the sensitive flesh harden at her touch before Fleur gently moved it away.

A small step, but a step nonetheless.


	23. Chapter 23

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 23 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Rating: Wet R

Summary:Giving and receiving

Warnings: Brief reference to past traumatic events, events that might be a touch unconventional, bit of girlsex, maybe more than just a bit. One cannot forever hold back the tides.

Word Count: 2680

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Twenty-three

Christmas Eve found Fleur and Hermione eagerly awaiting Gabrielle, and the smallest yet mightiest member of the trio arrived only to be buried under delighted witches.

Fortunately, Gabrielle thrived under such abuse, and she laughed delightedly and kissed them both exuberantly.

"Too long, it has been too long," Gabrielle said earnestly, "but now I can breathe again. How I have missed you both!"

It was not only the joy in Gabrielle's eyes, and Fleur's, that led Hermione to her decision, but the undeniable feelings within herself, and she maneuvered her lips to Fleur's ear in the midst of the group hug.

"Oui," she whispered, and Fleur smiled.

Finally they were all able to release their holds on each other, and Fleur showed Gabrielle to her room.

"How are you, Fleur?" Gabrielle asked softly.

"Better, Gabi, undeniably better. Hermione is a wonder, and I have my trees and my colleagues, and my work. And now you are here and I am again complete. Have you any exciting tales to tell us?"

"Nothing worth mentioning, the job is usually boring. Come, I must see this beach that our Hermione is so fond of."

There were only a few people on the beach, and these lucky few stared openly at the sight of Fleur and Gabrielle walking together on the white sand with Hermione. The whimpering girl from Fleur's seminar shyly approached and offered her best wishes for the holiday.

"It is good to see you again Ms. Wellows, I wish you a joyous Christmas as well. Allow me to present my sister, Gabrielle Delacour. Ms. Wellows was in my seminar, Gabi. Top of the class, if I recall correctly."

"A pleasure," Gabrielle greeted the flustered young woman, "but as I am not one of these stuffy academics, I cannot possibly call you Ms. Wellows. How may I address you?"

"P- Paula, please, Ms. Delacour," she replied with an effort.

"Gabrielle then, Paula. I hope to see you again before I must leave," Gabrielle smiled at her, and Paula whimpered again, to her complete dismay,

"Any time at all, really, Gabrielle," she managed, and she excused herself and headed quickly back to her dorm.

"Another conquest?" Fleur inquired of her sister. Gabrielle shrugged.

"She is cute, but I cannot spare the time this trip. There are only two people I wish to be near. Hermione, dove, your beach is indeed lovely, I can understand why you came here. But –"

"St. Catherine's is _ours_," Hermione finished.

"Exactement."

"I should go and check on the food," Hermione told them, "but you two feel free to stay longer if you wish."

"You are cooking?" Gabrielle asked.

"I can cook," Hermione protested.

"Of course you can," Gabrielle agreed soothingly, "but I am tired of the stares, let us go home."

Hermione was frankly enjoying the stares, especially those from some colleagues that she was not particularly fond of. She loved her school, but it was no WMD when it came to politics, and Hermione took some satisfaction in seeing those individuals gawp at her companions.

"Is Linda here?" Gabrielle asked casually as they walked the path up to Hermione's, having eschewed Apparition in favor of a bit more sightseeing.

"No, she's on the mainland visiting family. She did ask that I give you her best, although I suppose she's already done that, hasn't she?"

"She was most sincere, yes, and enthusiastic, but…" Gabrielle looked to Fleur for permission, and received a small nod granting it. "She cannot of course, compare to you." Gabrielle smiled and waited for an embarrassed flush at the very least, but Hermione had been expecting something like this.

"Of course not, I am magnificent," Hermione agreed, and she lightly trailed her fingertips down Gabrielle's cheek. _"Have you forgotten so soon, then?"_ Hermione breathed as she stared into Gabrielle's eyes.

Fleur simply exploded with laughter, she could not remember ever before seeing her sister blush, much less be rendered speechless. Hermione turned and tripped lightly up the path ahead of them, extraordinarily pleased with herself.

"Very funny, ma belle Fleur," Gabrielle admitted, "did you tell her to do that?"

"I might perhaps have proposed something to her," Fleur admitted.

"I see, well I have to admit that it was well done," Gabrielle granted.

"I did not say that _that_ was what I had proposed to her, Gabi," and Fleur too smiled and went on, leaving Gabrielle in a very unaccustomed state of bewilderment.

xxxxxx

Much to Gabrielle's relief, the majority of dinner had come from Hermione's favorite restaurant on the island. Rather than a traditional sit-down extravaganza, she had adopted their favorite style of meal from St. Catherine's. There were many widely varying styles of food, some were their summer favorites, others local specialties, and they ate whatever they liked whenever they felt like it throughout the afternoon and evening. The most traditional thing that they had was a trifle that Hermione had actually made with her own hands, without magic.

"This trifle is delicious! Superb!" exclaimed Gabrielle upon first taste.

"Try not to act so surprised, won't you?" Hermione replied. "I learned it at Hogwarts; the elves taught me how to make it."

Hermione had also provided music from her "noise machine", and Fleur and Gabrielle were surprised to hear a Christmas concert by the Beauxbatons chorus, as well as the Hogwarts choir. There were also some traditional Christmas songs from their homelands, as well as from the U.S.

Late evening found them happily snuggled together on the couch in front of the fire, listening to the music, sipping a very nice wine that Gabi had brought, and simply soaking in the feeling of utter completion that they only experienced when they were all together.

Gabrielle's eyes strayed to the brightly wrapped packages under the tree.

"I want to open presents now," Gabrielle declared.

"Patience, little sister, patience," Fleur soothed, "it is not yet Christmas."

"She has always been like this," Gabrielle told Hermione, "even when we were children and would sneak downstairs in the night she would never let me open a single gift until after midnight. It was most frustrating."

"Discipline is good for you; do you not see how well you have turned out? In any case, it will be midnight soon enough. I believe that you will find your gifts worth the wait. Ah! We all know this carol, let us sing together!"

xxxxxx

_"Fleur, are you serious?" Hermione had asked in response to Fleur's request that night at WMD._

_ "Oui, very serious, my love."_

_ "But… why? I don't understand."_

_ "Many reasons, but all of them come to the same thing – love. Because of love. I know that Gabrielle loves you, and that you love her. I also know that as great as this love is that it is not precisely the same as the love that you and I share. But neither is it the same as the love of sisters that bonds my soul to Gabrielle's, and hers to mine. These feelings cannot be hidden from a Veela, Hermione."_

_ "I could never betray you like that," Hermione insisted, "and how could it be fair to Gabi, even if she consented?"_

_ "Gabrielle knows as much about feelings as I do," Fleur told her. "But it is not only for her that I ask, nor even just for you as well, but for __**me**__ that I ask this. I want the two dearest to me to share this together, for the sake of my own heart. I can explain it no better than that…"_

xxxxxx

"Midnight approaches!" Fleur declared. "Gabrielle, please take the wine and the glasses to safety before I unleash you on the poor unsuspecting packages." Gabrielle hopped up and collected things, and carried them to the kitchen.

Fleur pulled Hermione close and kissed her.

"Thank you my love, you give me a very great gift."

"Shall I leave you two alone?" Gabrielle asked.

"Non," Fleur told her. "It is time, Joyeaux Noel to us all! Close your eyes Gabi, your gift is first, since you have traveled the farthest."

Gabrielle obediently closed her eyes, and Hermione threaded her fingers once again into the quite short silver hair, and allowed all of the feelings that she did indeed have for Gabrielle to flow through the kiss.

Gabrielle whimpered and responded eagerly, and then her eyes snapped open and she turned in alarm to Fleur, only to see her gazing at the two of them with shimmering eyes and a smile that was beautiful even for her.

"Or perhaps for Christmas some year..." Fleur said softly into the thick air of the room, "and perhaps I lied, and this gift is for all of us, not you alone, Gabi. Come, my loves." Fleur stood and urged them into the bedroom, where she sat in the soft chair. "How else will I learn?" she asked, and Gabrielle understood.

"You are sure?" Gabrielle could not refrain from asking Hermione. Hermione responded by pulling her sweater off.

"I am sure. The rest of the unwrapping is for you to do, however."

Slowly, gently, Gabrielle removed Hermione's remaining clothing. Hermione felt as if the cloth were being wished away, but it was only Gabrielle's sure fingers, and her mouth that covered each bit of newly exposed skin with kisses.

Hermione stood naked before them, trembling slightly as Gabrielle removed her own clothing; she turned to Fleur, who was sitting heavy-lidded in the chair looking hungrily at Hermione as she waited for Gabrielle in obvious anticipation. Fleur's fingers began on her own buttons and fasteners.

And then Gabrielle molded herself to Hermione in a fierce acceptance of what was offered to her, and the strong and slender fingers insinuated their way into the wild mass of chocolate silk that was Hermione's hair, and their lips met, and their tongues danced together, and this time they each knew full well who the woman in their arms was, and they all three rejoiced in that knowledge.

Hermione's head was spinning, and she felt herself lifted easily and laid gently down on her bed, and she decided there and then that she did not care a fig what the rest of the world might think. No one outside of this room had any right even to an opinion on what they shared here together.

Gabrielle kissed her way down to Hermione's toes and back to her neck, nuzzling up to her ear, clasping her with arms and legs before lightly tracing the outline of her ear with the point of her tongue.

"I believe that it is my turn, oui?" Gabi whispered, and she rolled onto her back and opened herself fully to Hermione.

Hermione spared another glance to Fleur, and saw a look on her face that she recognized and loved, and she knew that Fleur too was swept up in the passions that now filled the air of the small room with a warm fog of desire and love, and any remaining fear was gone.

Gabrielle drew in a sharp breath when Hermione's mouth closed on her nipple, and she shuddered as Hermione's nails traced their way down her stomach, the muscles under the satin skin quivering in response. For Hermione this was all new, this feeling of someone she loved responding unrestrainedly and passionately to her touch, and she began to see how Fleur must feel when she did these same things to Hermione. And while Hermione had never felt truly deprived by the limits that existed for Fleur and her, she nonetheless thrilled to the feelings, and the sights, and the sounds that her touch created. The feel of the taut nipple on her tongue, the heat of Gabi's swollen lips as her fingers slipped through the now damp down that covered her sex lightly, the deliciously slick slide into a soft fire that held her fingers in a throbbing grip. For the first time ever, she knew the joy of fully exploring a woman she now admitted to herself that she was indeed in love with.

Fleur was experiencing new things as well, she stared raptly at Hermione, taking joy in her pleasure as Gabrielle writhed in ecstasy from the touch of Hermione's mouth, her fingers, her body. She felt her love for Gabrielle warm in her heart, and she took joy in sharing with her sister that which meant more to her than all but Gabrielle herself. There was no mystical, metaphysical connection that allowed her to feel exactly what Gabrielle felt, but there was the love that they shared, both for each other and Hermione, and that was more than sufficient for the moment. She watched, fascinated, as the pale skin so like her own bloomed under Hermione's touch, listened, as the voice so like her own cried out in anguished elation, and for the first time Fleur felt a like response within herself, a true _hunger_ for the things that Hermione was at last free to do, to experience. Not yet with Fleur, not yet, but also for the first time Fleur truly began to believe that in time she would. Fleur felt real hope that she would someday be able to give herself to Hermione as Gabrielle did now, and a fire kindled within her that soon surpassed any she had ever known.

For Gabrielle, it was all overwhelming. That her sister so loved her as to share Hermione with her in this way, that she acknowledged Gabrielle and Hermione's love and want and need for each other, and took joy in it rather than felt threatened by it. She would not have believed it possible, but she found herself loving Fleur even more. And Hermione – Gabrielle knew full well that Hermione had never shared in this way before with anyone, and she felt humbled by the experience, by the way that Hermione showed just how much she really loved and wanted her.

Gabrielle had certainly had more skilled and experienced partners for sex, but as Hermione's tongue first gently and then firmly stroked her swollen lips, and at last pushed its warm, soft, way inside of her she realized that she had never before _made love_ with anyone, and she slowly turned towards her sister who had given her this great gift, as she began her endless fall into bliss.

Hermione was too occupied by the wonder that was under her hands and mouth, too caught up in the sounds, the textures, and oh, God, the _taste_ of Gabrielle to have any coherent thought whatsoever. And so she did as Fleur had asked, and simply loved Gabrielle without restraint.

It did not occur to Fleur to join them in any way other than she was, enthralled by the beauty of her other two hearts as they took pleasure in each other. The sight of Hermione set her afire, true, and her hands by now had gotten the inconvenient clothing out of their way, the better to tend the flames within her that raged higher than ever before. The sight of Gabrielle filled her heart with warmth, and a deep satisfaction filled her soul that Gabrielle was now experiencing something for what Fleur knew to be also a first time of sorts.

Fleur watched as Gabrielle's back arched sharply, and her hands pulled hard on Hermione's hair. Gabi's body twisted towards her, and she could see Hermione's fingers thrusting into Gabrielle as her lips drew the swollen little nub of flesh in between them, and when Gabrielle's face turned fully to her, Fleur could plainly see the love written there for both her and Hermione. And then the blue, blue, eyes went round, and a long, drawn-out, mewling sound came from Gabrielle, and Fleur's fingers curled deep within herself as her head flew back against the chair when she shuddered and cried out.

Hermione slowly came back to herself, and she bathed Gabi's reddened lips tenderly with her tongue before she crawled up beside her and snuggled up to her, she saw Fleur sprawled in the chair, and she smiled at the look of exhausted satisfaction on her face.

_"The other gifts can wait,"_ she thought as her eyes closed.


	24. Chapter 24

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 24 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Rating: PG 13

Summary: Afterwards - A Luna Landing

Warnings: very light girlsex references

Word Count: 2650

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

"Not Fate"

Chapter 24

Hermione awakened absolutely clear-headed, the memories of the night burned deeply and gloriously into her mind. She drew in a deep breath of satisfaction, and the pheromone laden air went to her head like wine.

She had never known such happiness. Gabrielle slept warmly in her arms, Fleur breathed softly on her neck, her body nestled snugly to Hermione's. She wanted to lie there forever, exactly like this.

However.

"Bugger," she said softly, and she tried carefully to extricate herself from the midst of this woman-sandwich without disturbing the others. This was of course a forlorn hope.

"Mmmmf, be still," Fleur complained, tightening her arm, "I do not wish this to be disturbed."

"No more do I, my love, but disturb it I shall, if you do not let me go. I have to pee."

"Oh. Merde! Do not be too long about it, please."

Mother Nature always wins out, and Gabi was dancing a bit by the time Fleur had finished, but they all made it. They assembled back in the bedroom, and simply stood and looked at each other, smiling and happy, albeit quite thoroughly mussed.

"I love you," they said in rough synchronicity, and there was no need to be more specific.

They each understood without words the new relationship among themselves, and each of them was utterly thankful for it.

"If we start saving now," Hermione said, chewing on her lower lip, "perhaps we can pick up that fourth week."

"Brilliant as always, my friend and my love," Gabrielle granted. She turned to her sister. "Fleur, mon couer, mon soleil, I – I…"

"I know, ma belle, I know. But how could I let you continue to search, when the answer for all of us was here at hand? I merely embraced the tide; that is all. And now there is more for all of us, do you see?" Gabrielle embraced Fleur, and then Hermione, and there was a great deal of embracing done all around.

Hermione found her wand and weaved a complex pattern, all the while muttering steadily. They all felt the tingle as the spell took hold. Fleur arched a brow in question.

"No carolers or visitors can bother us today," Hermione explained, "anyone trying to approach the house will find themselves on the beach. I don't want any other company, and I don't want to get dressed. There is nothing in the world this day but us, as far as I'm concerned."

"Do you want a shower?" Fleur asked, wrinkling her nose a little.

"Only to get ready for a fresh coat," Hermione explained.

Hermione got the best of the shower however, for she bathed, and was in turn bathed by, _two_ women that she was in love with. She may have been the least bit smug when it was done.

They did abandon the idea of spending the day completely naked however, for when they opened gifts they found several cashmere sweaters that needed breaking in before Fleur and Gabrielle had to leave. It was Gabrielle's idea to put the discreet monograms on them, just to keep things organized.

Gabrielle was thrilled with her locket, which of course held pictures of Fleur and Hermione. At least until Fleur demanded custody of all of them and disappeared into the bedroom with them. The look on her face when she returned should have clued Gabi and Hermione in, but the images from the past night that now showed in the lockets took them by surprise, and ultimately led to another round of showers. Fleur did assure them that no eyes but their own could see this enhancement, but Hermione wasn't certain that she cared who saw; as she was quite chuffed with the whole thing.

As were they all.

"Best Christmas ever," Hermione purred as they curled together to sleep at the end of the day.

Not perfect, not quite, not yet. But for all of them it would do to be getting on with.

xxxxxx

Fleur's next seminar was as successful as the first. Hermione was also pleased to find that it was not difficult at all for her to tell the difference between Fleur and Gabrielle in the night, and there were no unfortunate incidents. Fleur would sometimes awaken in the night long after Hermione had drifted off, but the sound of her breathing and the warmth of her presence always soon soothed her back to sleep, to dream of the time when Hermione could freely get to know every bit of her. But not now. Not yet.

"I've had an owl from Luna," Fleur told Hermione, "she's coming to WMD April seventh. Can you be there?"

"I'll find a way," Hermione promised, "I wouldn't want to miss that."

So comfortable were they now in their love that parting when they had to was merely the first step to another beginning, and not an ending for them.

Fleur was feeling somewhat impatient with herself, with her inability to simply let go with Hermione, to give of herself freely as Gabrielle did. Hermione never gave any sign of such impatience herself, but still… Fleur had begun to wonder if perhaps it would be best… she resolutely put the thought away and kissed Hermione goodbye before entering the green flames.

xxxxxx

Hermione arrived at WMD on the sixth of April and was greeted with pleasure by the staff and with pure, happiness and love by Fleur. The few remaining bitter ashes of Hermione's past life blew away in the breeze that danced through the trees. She was even glad to see Lilac again.

"So who exactly is this witch you're importing, Hermione? The 'tree whisperer'?" Dean Clark asked over the dinner he hosted for Fleur and Hermione in his home.

"The term 'exactly', cannot be precisely applied to Luna," Hermione explained obliquely.

"Luna is Luna," Fleur said with a shrug, "and she is extraordinary. Singular, in fact, in my experience."

"What's so special about her?" Robert asked. Anyone who defied description by these two just had to be someone worth meeting.

"Nothing. Everything. Just…" Hermione threw up her hands.

"Luna sees things, hears things," Fleur tried tentatively, "simply _knows_ things that others cannot or will not see or hear. She is Luna, as I said." Fleur repeated the shrug, and a light kindled in Robert's eyes.

He simply lived to meet people who defied description, and Luna defined that.

Fleur and Hermione awakened when the sun streaming through the window above them set the dancing motes of dust asparkle.

"Good morning," they greeted each other, and they kissed languorously.

A satisfied-sounding sigh startled them more than a little.

"Luna!" gasped Hermione when she had recovered her breath.

It was indeed Luna, and she was sitting on the chair at Fleur's dressing table smiling happily at them.

"Good morning to you both as well," she said cheerfully. "You're even more beautiful together than I thought you would be. Still, there is something here that I don't yet understand…"

Fleur and Hermione were pretty certain what that was, but they were not at all prepared to discuss Gabrielle's place in their lives. Not yet, not even with Luna, who would doubtless see it in time as she did everything else.

"How did you get here, Luna my friend?" Fleur managed to ask at last. There had been no warning at all from the wards. Luna tilted her head to the side as she regarded them frankly.

"You invited me," she explained, "I Apparated in a few minutes ago."

"My wards failed?" Fleur asked, a frown clouding her face.

"Of course not, your warding is exceptional; they merely recognized me as a friend, that's all."

Fleur knew enough of Luna to simply accept that statement.

"May we get dressed?" Hermione asked.

"Certainly," Luna granted. She did not, however, budge from her seat.

Recognizing that normal rules of behavior could not be fairly applied to Luna, and really feeling quite comfortable with her in any case, Fleur and Hermione rose nude from their bed and set about their morning routines. Luna politely moved from the chair so that they could get at the dressing table, and sat patiently on the bed.

"You have a wonderful tan, Hermione," Luna complimented her; "the tan lines make it even prettier. I hope you use the proper potions though, it would be a shame to damage such beautiful skin."

Hermione thanked her for the compliment, and assured her that she did indeed take proper care of her skin.

"And Fleur, you have the loveliest breasts I have ever seen," Luna said, matter-of-factly.

"Merci," Fleur replied with a bemused smile.

As she had said herself, Luna was Luna.

"Let's have breakfast," Hermione suggested when she had finished combing the tangles from her hair.

"That sounds lovely," Luna agreed, and she fished a bottle from the depths of her large purse. "Here, try this on your hair, it's something I make myself, and it helps with the tangles."

Hermione looked at the thick, honey-colored cascade of curls that fell past Luna's waist and took the bottle gratefully. Hermione waged an unending war with her hair.

Fleur prepared breakfast for them, and the three friends spent a few happy hours simply enjoying each other's company and catching up. Luna filled them in on all of their old mutual friends, and Hermione was pleased that Ginny and Harry were still together and happy, and that their children were thriving. Luna knew little of Bill however; merely that he had joined a pack somewhere in Wales, and kept in fairly regular contact with his family. Fleur was pleased that he had found a place congenial to him, but Bill was now firmly in her past.

Hermione did, however, go a bit goggle-eyed at the news that Ron had married Lavender Brown.

"It happened fairly soon after some big brewup at the Burrow, Ron got frightfully angry about something and told off the lot of them, marched out, and went straight to Lavender. I've visited with them, they are both quite happy," Luna assured her.

The news that Ron was happy pleased Hermione, and she decided not to dwell on the Lavender bit. She had Fleur. _And_ Gabrielle. If Ron was happy with Lavender, then more power to them both.

"Your friends will be awakening now, Fleur," Luna told her, "they are very old, and so naturally they sleep in a bit. Shall we go?"

There was nothing for it but to go, this was after all why Luna was here, and it was best to follow her guidance. Especially as neither Fleur nor Hermione had much idea what they were really going to do.

Fleur introduced Luna to those of her colleagues that they met on the way to the forest, and they all greeted Luna with the friendliness and warmth that distinguished WMD. That is, until they encountered Lilac.

Fleur called out to her, and Lilac turned, took a few steps towards them, and then stopped dead in her tracks with a look on her face that reminded Hermione forcibly of the first time Ron had seen Fleur. Lilac knew Fleur well, however, and she knew Hermione, so that left…

"Hello," Luna said cheerfully, "you've been waiting for me, haven't you? It isn't quite time yet, but I'm very pleased to see you. We're going to visit Fleur's friends the trees, would you like to come along with us? Just follow if you wish, we really need to get going now." Luna turned and headed into the forest, Hermione and Fleur shared a perplexed look at Lilac, whose face gave the appearance of someone surfacing from the bottom of a very deep body of water, and then followed Luna. A few moments later Lilac trailed dazedly along after them.

Dean Clark, who had seen the whole thing from a little distance, shook his head and set off to his morning meetings. His first admittedly second-hand experience of Luna had not disappointed.

Luna walked a seemingly random path among the giants, letting her fingers trail over the bark, occasionally she would walk completely around one of them, looking far up into the branches above. She would smile and then move on.

Fleur felt a prickle on the back of her neck that intensified over time.

_"What is she?"_ Lilac whispered to Hermione, having by now recovered speech and at least some of her usual grace.

"Luna Lovegood, an old friend and schoolmate. Luna – oh, just watch, you'll see," Hermione answered.

Luna stopped before a tree that seemed not very different from the others, clasped it with her arms as best she could and laid the side of her head firmly against it. The prickle on Fleur's neck intensified, and she and Hermione both felt the air thicken a bit. Lilac just stared at Luna.

"You were right, Hermione," Luna announced when she at last released her hold on the tree and gave it a little pat. "The trees remember Veela, and they miss them. What you heard was them singing, they hope the Veela will somehow hear and return to them. You couldn't quite make it out because you aren't Veela, and they were sleepy last time. They are very happy that you're here, Fleur. Perhaps you could invite some other Veela to come here? The trees would welcome them."

"My Aunt is coming next month," Fleur said slowly, "per'aps she should bring others with her…"

"Are you Veela, then, Luna? Is that how you understood them?" Hermione asked.

"Of course not, I understood them because I know how to listen, that's all. Now then Fleur, please introduce me to your beautiful friend."

"Luna, this is Lilac, Lilac Wo Der, Luna Lovegood," Fleur said in compliance.

"What a lovely name, it suits you perfectly," Luna told her.

"What did you mean before; when you said that I've been waiting for you?"

"We're to be lovers, of course, I saw you sense that when we met. And I didn't really mean that you were waiting for _me_ specifically, that would be a bit far-fetched, wouldn't it? I simply meant that like all of us, you want to be loved and appreciated by someone, and when I saw you I knew right away that we would mesh very well in that way."

"Lovers?" Lilac questioned thickly.

"Certainly, if you like," Luna answered.

"I'm good with that…" Luna smiled happily.

"Come, let us walk together among the trees, and listen to them singing."

Luna took Lilac by the hand, told Hermione and Fleur that she would be back for dinner, and led the black-haired woman off into the forest.

"We mustn't follow them," Hermione said, striving to heed her own advice.

"Of course not," agreed Fleur, "but I suspect that it would be well worth seeing."

It would indeed; the sun glinting through the branches picking highlights from their hair, Luna's milk-white skin against the rich golden tone of Lilac's, the thick honey-colored curtain that fell about them as Luna moved astride her new lover.

Fleur was correct; it would have been well worth seeing.

xxxxxx

Luna had dinner with Fleur, Hermione, Robert, and of course Lilac, who could not have been separated from Luna with a severing charm.

Robert was utterly charmed and completely fascinated by Luna.

"What do you do besides listen to trees, Luna?" he asked.

"I run a preserve for Magical Creatures, we do a lot of rehabilitation work with abused and injured creatures, and also conduct educational seminars throughout Europe," she explained. Robert's eyes lit up.

"Could I interest you in doing one here?"

"There he goes," Hermione said with a smile.

"That's a _marvelous_ idea," Lilac said enthusiastically, suddenly breaking the stunned silence she had maintained throughout dinner. "You can stay with me."

"And there _she_ goes," Fleur appended quietly to Hermione, "or comes…"

"That sounds lovely," Luna agreed, "I'll send you our literature and a list of free dates. Do you have much trouble with nargles here?"


	25. Chapter 25

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 25 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione

Rating: PG 13

Summary: Uncertainty and surprise, news from the Burrow

Warnings: light girlsex references, angst

Word Count: 3095

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Twenty-five

Their second summer together at St. Catherine's, while not nearly as long, was even better than their first. For one thing, Gabi was there the whole time, and they all had four weeks together. As second-in-command Gabrielle had acquired both increased responsibility and increased benefits.

One of Gabrielle's benefits turned out to be a visit from Luna, and Fleur and Hermione had watched in amusement as they sized each other up and rapidly came to the same conclusion. Fleur and Hermione had had a brief hello and an occasional lunch or brief swim with her, but otherwise Luna had been invisible, along with Gabi, for the duration of her visit.

"Are we jealous?" Hermione had asked Fleur one evening as they sat together and listened to the evening concert from Gabi's room.

"Non, Luna is lovely, but only you truly press my buttons, so to speak," Fleur told her.

"For me it's just you and Gabrielle, although Luna's hair is…" Hermione agreed provisionally, "but hearing Gabi, knowing… I'm not upset; Luna is surely a worthy partner for her, but…"

"You are horny, n'est ce pas?" Fleur asked her.

"A bit, yes," admitted Hermione.

"That will never do, come with me, I shall make you _extremely_ horny, and then take care of the problem as best I am able." Hermione brightened at once.

Fleur was more than able, and Hermione looked forward to the time when she would be able to completely return the favor. But that time was not now. Not yet.

Hermione was secure in Gabrielle's love for her, just as she was in Fleur's, and she accepted that while Fleur had no desire for anyone but her, Gabrielle had a purely physical side that simply had to express itself. Hermione herself felt no real urge for anyone other than Fleur or Gabrielle. Hermione privately thought that Gabrielle and Fleur would be breathtaking together, but neither of them had the least inclination in that direction. They were all different, all in love, and all understanding and accepting of each other's differences.

Linda Wilkes was thankful for this, even if she didn't realize it.

"Oui, Linda," Gabrielle whispered into her ear, "come for Gabrielle…"

Linda obliged. Multiple times.

She's going to kill me," Linda said to Hermione as she escorted her to the floo at the end of her visit.

"Do you mind?" Hermione asked.

"Not a goddam bit," Linda admitted. "I might have a surprise for you after vacation. Come and see me when you get back to Hawaii."

"Of course," Hermione agreed, but the sight of Fleur emerging from their bedroom drove the thought clear out of her head.

The month passed too quickly, but they had made plans for visits throughout the coming year, and so the sadness of parting was tempered by eager anticipation. Thanksgiving at Fleur's, Christmas at Hermione's, and any other chance Gabrielle had to get free she would be at one place or the other, and they would all get together as circumstances permitted. They had things to rely on, and things to anticipate and hope for, and the end of their time on St. Catherine's this summer was far more sweet than bitter. There were many more images in their lockets, and they all had new used clothes.

Fleur resolutely suppressed the nagging feeling as she watched Hermione and Gabrielle bid farewell to each other that perhaps she should simply… but no.

xxxxxx

"Welcome back Hermione," Dean Wilkes said when Hermione entered her office. "Good vacation?"

"Best vacation. So far, that is," Hermione replied with a smile.

"Me too," Linda said, and she fell silent for a moment. "You know, I really hate to admit this, but Gabi is getting to be a bit more than I can handle. But my God, she's something… and strong as Hell, Jesus Christ, she can lift my fat old carcass like it was nothing."

"You're neither old nor fat, Linda," Hermione corrected, "but you're right. Gabi is strong as Hell. Stronger, really," she corrected as she thought of what Gabrielle faced daily.

"What exactly does she do?" Wilkes asked.

"What needs to be done," Hermione replied. "That's all she'll say. I do know that it's terribly dangerous, and of critical importance, and that she is very, very, good at it. Beyond that I can't say, don't know, and dare not ask."

"I'm glad she's on our side," Linda said after a pause. "There is something in her eyes, every now and then…"

"Gabi is special, in every sense of the word," Hermione agreed.

"Really… oh! The surprise! Guess who's coming to our little school just before the end of this term?" Linda said excitedly.

"Please, not that Justin Bieber twit," entreated Hermione. Linda shuddered.

"Hardly. Harry-freaking-Potter! Can you believe it?"

"Harry? Whatever for?" Hermione asked, uncharacteristically flummoxed.

"He's doing a lecture tour. Some witch wrote an unauthorized biography of him, it came out in the U.K. a few months ago and is selling like mad, so he's out to set the record straight."

"Bugger," muttered Hermione. "Have you read it?"

"Just finished it," Linda replied with a Cheshire grin.

"Please tell me that I'm not mentioned."

"You're not mentioned," Linda said, "not in the first three chapters, anyway. Care for a potholder?"

"Just give me the bloody book," Hermione demanded. Linda handed it over with a smile.

xxxxxx

"Bloody. Fucking. Hell." Hermione said plainly, just before she threw the book into the fire. She watched it burn to ashes, and then she firecalled Inez Staunton.

xxxxxx

Gabrielle joined Fleur and Hermione at WMD for Thanksgiving, and stunned both of them by climbing high into the branches of one of the great trees. They would have taken an oath that the tree giggled. Aunt Ariel had arrived a few weeks before with several other Veela, including some of pure Veela lineage. They had spent a morning with Fleur, meeting Robert and several others of her friends, and then Fleur had led them to the tree that Luna had embraced. The prickling on the back of Fleur's neck grew stronger than ever.

The eldest Veela had turned to Fleur with tears in her eyes and said, "Thank you, daughter of my heart, for leading us home."

Aunt Ariel had promised to return when she could, and the Veela disappeared into the forest.

Fleur felt a great contentment from them all as they went.

They all thought it best not to mention Gabrielle's time with Luna over the summer to her, but Lilac was likely too smitten with Gabi to have noticed had they done so. Gabrielle however, while acknowledging Lilac's beauty, had simply felt no pull towards her.

Hermione may have felt a bit smug about that.

They were all three very thankful for each other, and Fleur took joy once again in seeing the love that Hermione could express freely with Gabrielle.

She did.

But once again she wondered if she should not simply…

xxxxxx

"I hear that I have you to thank for ruining my lecture tour," Harry said as he entered Hermione's office without knocking, shortly before Christmas break.

"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione, and she ran around her desk and swept him into her arms.

"Oof! Easy, Hermione! 'Struth, but you're strong! What happened?"

"Clean living," Hermione replied. "It's so good to see you Harry, how are you?"

"I'd be better if I'd just called you when that ruddy book first came out. D'you know there is an actual _religion_ springing up, claiming that I rose from the dead not once, but twice?"

"Well…" she began.

"Not you too, please," moaned Harry.

"At least she didn't write that you screwed your way across half the continent, 'keeping up the spirits of the two intrepid warriors'," Hermione retorted.

"Fair point," Harry conceded. "But you made her pay for it. Now her publisher is after her too, they lost a ton having to recall all those books."

"Serves them right, and I didn't leave much for the publisher," Hermione said with a grim smile. "But I did set up a fund for you, for your children, Harry, here." Hermione handed him an envelope. Harry opened it and read, and his mouth dropped open. Inez Staunton had on retainer some truly beastly solicitors, and she had gleefully sicced them on both the author and the publisher.

"Hermione, I can't possibly accept this," Harry protested.

"You can and you will. In my heart those children are my niece and my nephews," Hermione said quietly. "I know I played an important part in what happened, Harry. So did Ron. So did you. It took all of us. The claptrap that demented harpy spouted doesn't change what was between us. I thought it only fair that we all share in this. We got through it together, as a team. Just because she attempted to exploit the fact that I have a vagina doesn't change that. Nothing ever will. Nothing ever can. How is Ginny?" she added hesitantly.

"Enjoying being a Mum, believe it or not. Sometimes she sounds just like Molly. Terrifying, really. And she's ashamed of how she treated you, Hermione. But you know Gin, stubborn to a fault," Harry said sadly.

"I miss her, Harry," Hermione told him, "she was a good friend, and I miss her."

"She misses you too, I know she does. I catch her every now and again looking at a picture of you two at the Burrow. She just doesn't know how to apologize."

"Tell her she doesn't need to. God knows we've all been through enough without making our friends wear sackcloth and ashes. Tell her I love her, Harry. I might not be ready to face the rest of the Weasleys after the way things went, but I want my friend back. You tell her that, okay?"

"I will, Hermione, and thank you for this. It's scary being a parent, and this will take some of the fear out of it." Harry hugged Hermione close to him, and the tears they shed washed away a bit of the restraint that had grown between them. "So, you and Fleur, huh?"

"Me and Fleur, emphatically," Hermione replied .

"Stirred up the Burrow something fierce when we heard, but then since you and Ron, and Bill and Fleur split up there hasn't been much sense made there. Kind of spoiled the vision of a perfect future for them, I guess," Harry shrugged, ran his fingers through his hair, and pushed his glasses up, and in spite of the pain Hermione had to smile at the old familiar gestures.

"How about you, Harry? How do you feel about it?"

"Frankly, I never thought either one of them was right for you or Fleur, especially Ron. But I love Ron; he's my best mate, even if I thought he was a git for losing you. But I suppose it wasn't his fault, really."

"No, it was no one's fault," agreed Hermione, "we were young, and just didn't know any better. But Ron's a good man, and I hope he and Lavender are happy together."

"Heard about that have you? Bit of a shock, that, at least to start with, but I have to admit they're a match. Happy as larks, even Ginny's finally come 'round. And Lavender doesn't take any guff from Molly. You'd enjoy that."

"I would indeed," Hermione admitted, "but you didn't really answer the question, Harry."

"Fleur is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen, and please don't tell Ginny I said that," Harry began, "but there is so much more to her than her looks, and I've always known that. But you, Hermione…" Harry paused, and he stared at his friend while the tears ran down his cheeks, "you're the finest person I have ever known, and I am endlessly proud to call you my friend. You're smart, you're brave, you're caring… and you are beautiful to your very bones, in every possible way. I cannot imagine any two people better suited to each other than you and Fleur. Ron feels the same way."

It took several long moments before Hermione could respond.

"Thank you Harry," she said quietly, "that means more to me than I can say."

"Well, that's certainly a first- OW!"

Hermione had tried out one of the compliance techniques that Gabrielle had taught her and Fleur. It worked quite well. It also shattered the last barrier between them, and they were once again simply Harry and Hermione, two kids on the train to Hogwarts.

"Well, I've got to get to the bloody talk. Say, can you do me a favor, Hermione?"

"Haven't I always?" she replied with a smile.

"Yeah, you have. Look after James for me?"

"James? You've been hiding my nephew from me? Harry Potter! I am going to –" she had to stop, Harry was laughing so hard that she could not help but join in. And she had to admit that it felt like old times, and that it felt very good indeed.

Eventually Harry recovered enough to bid farewell for a while, and he called James in from Hermione's outer office.

"Behave yourself, James," he said sternly.

"Yes dad," promised the boy. "Aunt Hermione?" he said uncertainly. He did not recall Hermione being tanned, and her hair was also a little different.

"Indeed I am, young man, now come and give me a proper hug!"

James ran to her and threw himself into her arms.

"I've really missed you, Aunt Hermione," he confessed.

"I've missed you too. But that's in the past, we're together now, and I promise to come and see you more often from now on. Tell me what's happened since I saw you last."

"Well, you know Uncle Ron married Aunt Lavender, right?"

"I have heard that, yes," Hermione confirmed.

"I really like her, she's very nice. Mum used to call her a 'vacuous tart', whatever that means. I guess it's 'cause she's so sweet, like a dessert," he told her. Hermione managed not to laugh, but it was a near thing. "Anyway, the coolest thing is how they got together. Do you know that story, Aunt Hermione?"

"Actually James, I've never heard that story," Hermione admitted.

"Oh! It was grand! The very best Christmas dinner ever!" he exclaimed.

"Do please sit down and tell me about it then," Hermione encouraged as she led him to the couch. James clambered up onto it, and settled into the classic pose of the storyteller, elbows on knees, and a most serious look on his face.

"Well, it started out like usual, Grandmum was whinging about the empty places at the table where you and Aunt Fleur used to sit, and then she got onto how even Uncle Bill wasn't there this year, and how it was all your and Aunt Fleur's fault." To this point, Hermione was not much enjoying this story, but she hated to hurt James' feelings and so she paid polite attention to him. "And then Uncle Ron started turning red. You remember how red he gets when he's angry, don't you?"

"I do indeed," Hermione assured him, the beginnings of a smile tickling her lips.

"Well, this was _miles_ past that. He looked like a ruddy tomato!" Hermione stifled a giggle. "But Grandmum kept right on about it, and nearly everyone else was chiming in, except for Dad of course, and then Uncle Ron just blew his bloody top! It was grand! Teddy and I call it, 'The Christmas That Uncle Ron Went Spare!' it was _brilliant!_" James promised her in an awestruck tone.

"Do go on, please, James," Hermione encouraged in an admirably level voice.

"Well, all of us kids were in the sitting room at the little table, and I guess everybody sort of forgot about us, 'cause they didn't send us outside or anything. Anyhow… well, Uncle Ron had had enough, I can tell you! He jumped up at the table and yelled at the top of his lungs… you remember how Uncle Ron can yell, don't you Aunt Hermione?"

"I most certainly do, James. Pray continue." Hermione was having to bite the inside of her cheeks now, but she wasn't about to distract the lad.

"So he yells, 'Would you all please just _shut the hell up!_', well, you could have heard a pin drop after that, I can tell you. Then he says - 'I am sick to death of all this rubbish about Fleur and Hermione! Sick of it! Do I have to remind you that if it weren't for Hermione that Harry and I would _still_ be looking for those bloody horcruxes? That is if we weren't dead ten times over, which we _bloody well would have been_, if not for her? That Hermione is the biggest reason that you're all able to sit here today and bitch about her? And Fleur? Have you all forgotten how she stood by Bill and nursed him back to whatever health he could have after that attack? How she stood by us _all_ and fought, when she could have left us, gone back to France and waited it out like many others did? Like Bill _begged_ her to do? Did any of you ever _once_ hear her complain? Her Mum fucking _died_, and still she stayed and fought with us, and you have the bloody nerve to speak out against her? For what? Because she and Bill split up? Did you ever stop to think that maybe Bill wasn't the easiest person in the whole bloody world to live with?"

"Me and Teddy wrote all this down on the spot, 'cause it was so cool, but we've got it learned off by heart now," James explained as he paused for breath.

"And then he says, 'I've had it! Bugger off, the lot of you! I'm going to Lavender's. She's no smarter than I am, maybe, but she's kind hearted, and loyal to her friends, and she can suck a quaffle through a drinking straw.' And then he stormed out, but that wasn't the coolest part, you know what was?"

Hermione choked back her tears, but whether of laughter or some other emotion she wasn't sure, and so she contented herself with shaking her head.

"The coolest part was when Dad said, 'she really can', 'cause Mum went _bonkers_ when he said that!"

That did it, Hermione simply _dissolved_ in laughter. James was quite pleased with himself.

"Aunt Hermione?" James ventured when she had composed herself a bit.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Do you think Aunt Lavender could actually suck a quaffle through a drinking straw? 'Cause I'd really like to see that," James confided.

"Best ask your mother that one, James," Hermione counseled, and she hugged him 'till he blushed.


	26. Chapter 26

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 26 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione Gabrielle/Hermione

Rating: PG 13-R

Summary: Realizations, A Singular Mind, Fear and apprehension

Warnings: light girlsex references, angst

Word Count: 3035

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

A/N: Well judging from the traffic stats I have jumped the shark with this one, if you're still here thanks, and the ending is pretty good, I think. Two chapters after this.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Twenty-six

Harry of course had to leave in time to get home for Christmas, and so he missed seeing Fleur and Gabrielle. Hermione promised to relay his best wishes for him, and he in turn promised to deliver to Ginny's own hand the letter Hermione had written.

"She'll read it, that much I guarantee," Harry had assured her. "But no one ever made money trying to guess which way a Weasley would jump when their emotions and their stubbornness collided."

Hermione could not have agreed more, but she had made a start. It was up to Ginny now.

xxxxxx

"Our second Christmas together!" Gabrielle greeted Fleur and Hermione when she emerged from Hermione's fireplace. After the exuberant greetings had run their course and Gabrielle had settled in they took their accustomed places on the sofa before the fire and simply basked in each other's presence. None of them ever felt quite whole when apart from even one of the others. Hermione had ceased to consider this odd at all, it was simply her life, and she was quite content with it, thank you very much.

"Mum and Dad send their love," Hermione told them, "they also sent baskets for each of us with toothbrushes and things. It's part of the joy when your parents are both dentists."

"That was very thoughtful of them," Fleur responded, "one must have these things, and it is well to have the professional's selection." Fleur's teeth of course, were perfect.

"Your parents know about us?" Gabrielle asked, a little surprised-sounding.

"Well, I didn't overburden them with details, but they know that Fleur and I are together, and that you usually spend holidays with us. They think that's sweet."

"As do I," Gabrielle purred.

"Aunt Ariel returned to France," Fleur informed them, "but several of the older Veela are staying. Much of the forest is public land, but no one will see a Veela who does not wish to be seen, and still others will come, for this does seem to be a remainder of what Veela history calls, "The Mother Wood". Lilac will be thrilled, she asks about you often, Gabi."

"Tell her that I said hello. She is truly lovely, but…" Gabrielle shrugged, "it is simply not there for me, the fire. Not like it is with Luna or Linda, and of course there is no one for me like our Hermione."

Hermione was definitely smug.

All of them collaborated on the Christmas holiday afternoon-to-evening buffet that it seemed was tradition for them now. Dean Wilkes dropped by briefly before she had to leave for her family's Christmas, as did Paula Wellows, who was in her first year of graduate school. She managed not to whimper even once, but she did smile broadly when Gabrielle gave Paula her information and told her to look her up if she ever got to France.

Hermione would have given odds that she knew where Paula would go for spring break next term. Gabrielle was counting on it, Paula seemed to have overcome some of her insecurities, and she was undeniably attractive in an elemental way. Gabrielle really liked that sort of thing.

"She is now ripe, that one," Gabi said after Paula had left.

"Feel free," Hermione told her.

"And miss any of my time with you? I think not."

_Quite_ smug.

Between Fleur and Gabrielle Hermione was soon reduced to a trembling mass on the rug in front of the fire. Fleur then reclined on the couch and watched as Hermione proceeded to completely unravel Gabrielle.

_"Mon Dieu, they are so lovely together…"_ Fleur thought, and a furrow appeared for just an instant on her brow before she too came apart.

The lure of sleeping together outweighed the curiosity over presents that year, and midnight passed without their attendance or notice. Christmas morning brought the shower routine and the hair-brushing banter that they all so enjoyed together, then breakfast, and then it was time for gifts.

"I have something for all of us this year," Hermione announced happily.

"Something _else_?" Fleur asked, before Gabrielle could.

"Yes, but I dearly hope they are somehow related. Here," she said as she handed them each an envelope. The envelope contained copies of a lease agreement for the month of July on their house on St. Catherine's. The agreement specified that it covered _every_ July, for so long as the house was available for lease.

"Hermione, this is fabulous," Gabrielle said, clearly stunned.

"Indeed," agreed Fleur, "how did – oh! May I assume this has something to do with a certain book of lies?"

"You may, and it does," Hermione confirmed, and she handed them each another envelope. "I used part of the settlement for the lease, and some more of it for Harry and Ron and any children they may have, since they were involved. But most of it I used to set up an investment account for the three of us. If things go well, or even just fairly well, when we're ready to hang up our respective hats we'll be able to hang them at St. Catherine's without any problems. I'm optimistic; Inez Staunton is having her financial people handle it for us, and they've surely done well by her. There are also smaller individual accounts for each of us. It's all in there."

It did not occur to either Fleur or Gabrielle to ask 'why'; they knew full well the why of it. And there was surely no other gift, apart from the gift of herself that she had already given that would have meant more to them than St. Catherine's.

The thanks were silent, but profound.

"It seems obscenely greedy to open any more gifts after this," Fleur admitted as she looked at the presents awaiting her.

"Yes, it does," Gabrielle agreed, "however I have a will of steel, I shall press on!"

Fleur had given both Gabrielle and Hermione copies of several books of Veela history and legend, some of them mentioning her trees. Gabrielle had gifted Fleur and Hermione with tight black unisuits like the one she wore beneath her outerwear on clandestine operations.

"Of course, this is a gift mostly for my benefit," Gabi admitted with a shrug. Fleur and Hermione didn't hold that against her, perhaps because there was no way in the world that they would wear those things in front of anyone not here in this room at this moment. Gabrielle insisted that they both try them on at once, and Hermione made Gabrielle put hers on as well, and then… suffice it to say that it was some time before any more gifts were opened.

The day after Christmas Fleur and Hermione discussed the proposed talk and Q&A that Hermione was considering holding at WMD on Legilimency. Gabrielle paid close attention, asking several questions that let Hermione know that she was familiar with the practice.

"Of course," Fleur teased, "not even Hermione is brave enough to wander through the echoing halls of your mind, Gabi."

"We shall have to see. Hermione, would you be interested in taking a stroll through the inside of my head?" Gabrielle invited.

Hermione was much more than interested, for many reasons. As a Legilimens, she had never before had the chance to explore the minds of siblings, and she was very curious to see what if any similarities might exist. As a woman in love, she was drawn to this chance to know more of Gabrielle, to grow closer with her. And as a human being, she was simply curious, and wondered if she might get a glimpse into the life that Gabrielle lived away from her and Fleur.

"Of course I would," Hermione admitted, "but are you sure? I might see things you don't even recall yourself; perhaps things that you would prefer to remain private."

"I am sure," Gabi said serenely, "there is nothing there I am ashamed of, skip over my vast collection of lovers if it makes you jealous," she advised, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Very well then," answered Hermione, and she and Gabrielle moved to the couch, Fleur curled up on the floor at Gabrielle's feet and draped an arm over her lap for the comfort of the touch. Fleur was a little nervous.

Fleur had said nothing, but she wondered if Hermione had forgotten what Gabrielle did for a living.

_"Legilimens"_, whispered Hermione.

"It's just like Fleur's," Hermione said as she found herself on a familiar-looking curving path.

But it wasn't. Hermione was startled to see that every image on this path was the same, the three of them at the moment Hermione had uttered the spell. She completed her circuit and found the expected door.

"Perhaps she organizes things by time…" she said, opening the door.

The next path held images from their times on St. Catherine's, times splashing in the warm sea, dancing on the patio under the stars. She saw Linda, and Luna, and a woman she supposed must be Giselle, but most of it was the three of them. Fascinated, Hermione moved on.

Again, the three of them, and Hermione was sincerely puzzled now.

"Nothing from her childhood," she murmured, "I wonder why not?" The very next scene she came to was of a young Gabrielle sitting with Fleur in the grass, playing with a kitten. Then there were birthday parties, Christmases with Fleur holding back an agitated Gabrielle at the foot of the stairs, and other memories one might expect a child to treasure. Hermione moved inward.

Fleur watched them both closely, but saw no sign of distress from either of them.

"I wonder where her memories of her work are," Hermione thought, stepping through another door. The curving road was perfectly empty, not a single image, thought, or feeling showed, yet when Hermione had completed the circuit, the door was there.

"Perhaps school," Hermione surmised, and sure enough, there were vignettes from Gabrielle's time at Beauxbatons, and some scenes from Hogwarts and the Triwizard, including one of a soaking wet young Hermione Granger with chattering teeth.

"But nothing of us making love…" Another door.

Hermione was struck by a wave of heat as she stepped onto the next path, her nipples grew hard and her center throbbed and swelled. It was all there, sight, sound, feelings, even scent, as she made her unsteady way around the circle. She recognized the night that Gabrielle had come into her room at St. Catherine's, and blessed Gabrielle for her boldness, for without it none of them would have the joy they now had together. She saw herself kissing Gabrielle Christmas last, and felt again the eager response from the woman in her arms, and her own surging passion.

Never had she experienced such vivid memories, not even her own. She faced the final door.

"What matters most to Gabrielle?" she wondered, and she opened it.

She saw herself holding Fleur's hand as she slept in exhaustion on the small couch at St. Catherine's, saw the bruises and scratches livid on her own face, and over them stood Gabrielle.

An enormous and terrifying Gabrielle, with a fiery sword in her hand, wearing glittering armor, and her eyes were cold blue flames. And those flames warmed Hermione more thoroughly than the sun of St. Catherine's. Hermione stood in stunned silence until her tears fairly puddled at her feet. At last she stirred, and reluctantly turned her back on this image of her Champion, her lover, and her friend.

She had made her way back through two doors before she had recovered enough for her curiosity to reassert itself. "So little fun…" she thought, opening the next door.

She found herself in Fleur's forest, and from high above her in the trees came the sound of Gabrielle's laughter. Looking up into the branches she could just make out a silver-haired figure skipping from branch to branch. As she wandered through the forest, she saw many scenes from Gabi's past that made her smile or laugh aloud, and she had a marvelous time looking at them, and then something occurred to her…

"How do I get out of here?" she wondered, and a doorway appeared. "What next?"

She groaned aloud. "A maze… great." But she had to take the challenge, and she found it to be a most amazing maze indeed, for there was never a dead end, and she knew full well there was only one way out.

"Help me please, Gabi," she said, and there was her door.

Gabrielle was smiling at her when she returned to the couch.

"There has never been a mind like yours," Hermione said flatly.

"Non? Was it not much like Fleur's?" Gabi asked.

"Only because I expected it to be, you knew exactly what I thought, what I felt, didn't you? You have absolute control of your mind, don't you?" Hermione asked

"C'est vrai, I could not very well let you wander unaided over such perilous ground," Gabrielle explained. "I showed you whatever you wished to see, except those things that I will not share. To care for you properly I must keep some things from you both. That is the way that it is, that is what needs to be done."

"Are both of you all right?" Fleur asked.

"I am," Hermione assured her. "Fleur, do you have any _idea_ how much Gabi loves us?"

"Oui, I think so," Fleur replied, "that is why I willingly share you with her. Such a love cannot be denied."

"No, it cannot, it must be celebrated." Hermione's fingers slid with familiar ease into the quite short silver hair.

"Hermione did this?" Ginny asked after the shock had passed. Harry had wrapped the documents for the trust that Hermione had established for their children, as well as the letter she had written Ginny, like a gift.

"Yes," Harry confirmed.

"She's even made provisions in case we should have more children. Harry, why would she do this?"

"You don't really have to ask that do you?" he answered.

"Well, if she thinks that she can buy forgiv-" Ginny stopped abruptly, because she knew very well that Hermione had done it simply because she loved them all. She also knew that it wasn't Hermione who needed forgiving here. The emotions had collided with the stubbornness, and this Weasley at least had jumped to the proper place. "God, Harry," she whispered thickly as tears ran freely down her cheeks, "I've been an utter bitch, haven't I?" Harry kissed her and held her close.

"Of course I'm not fool enough to agree… oh Hell, yes love, you have been. I haven't really been acting nobly myself; embarrassed silence isn't exactly sticking up for a friend, and the rest of the family will just have to find their own way in this. But we can lead by example here, and it's not too late, we've that to be thankful for. There's a letter for you as well, she misses you Gin."

"I miss her too, but how can I apologize after this?" she asked, indicating the papers. "She'll think I'm just sucking up because of the money. This is a _lot_ of money, Harry."

"You know better than that as well," Harry chided. "She just wants her friend back, but this is something you've got to do, or not do, yourself. This is between you and Hermione, love; I've made my apologies to her. I'd advise saving the letter for later though, we can't keep the kids at bay any longer, and Ron and Lavender will be over soon."

"Right," Ginny said, and she composed herself and wiped away the tears, and carefully tucked away the things from Hermione. Late that night, when things were quiet and she could be alone, that would be the time to tear the scabs off of her heart.

"Let the little heathens in, Harry."

'Heathens' may have been a bit much, but they were children, and it was Christmas, and there were presents, so… it was close enough.

But it was fun.

Ron and Lavender arrived, and they exclaimed together over the wonderful thing that Hermione had done for them, and Ginny admitted to Ron that she'd been a right git about him and Hermione. She also hugged Lavender and tearfully told her how she was the best thing that had ever happened to Ron, and that she loved her like a sister, and the whole thing was in real danger of simply washing out in tears and runny noses.

But James saved the day.

"Aunt Lavender," he piped up, "can you really suck a quaffle through a drinking straw?"

Their time together in Hawaii was unfortunately unable to extend through New Year's. Gabrielle had received an urgent message, and Fleur in any case had a function to attend at WMD on New Year's Eve. Of course it would be years before they had anything like all the time together that they wanted, but none of them were particularly cheerful when Gabi announced that she was ready to go.

Gabi hugged her sister tightly and kissed her on both cheeks, and she hugged Hermione tightly and gave her a kiss that left Hermione leaning forward as it ended. Then Gabi squared her shoulders and flooed away.

"I'll miss her," Hermione admitted.

"Oui, my poor Hermione, stuck here on this tropical island with only me," Fleur sympathized, and although her tone was teasing, a part of her was perhaps beginning to believe that. Perhaps it would be best for Gabi and Hermione for her to simply step aside, so that they would not be inhibited by having to worry about her reactions. She was careful not to betray these feelings however, and proceeded to do an extremely thorough job of distracting Hermione from the missing piece of their heart for the remainder of her time there.

Hermione fell into a blissfully exhausted sleep, and was unaware of the slow tears that ran down Fleur's still-flushed cheeks.

Fleur eventually fell asleep herself, and she dreamed as she often did of freely giving her body to Hermione. And as sometimes also happened, she woke with a start, biting off a scream.

Not perfect.


	27. Chapter 27

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 27 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione Gabrielle/Hermione

Rating: R

Summary: Pivotal events, One small step for Ron

Warnings: Angst, effect of past trauma that is a possible trigger

Word Count: 1800

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

"Not Fate"

Chapter Twenty-seven

Fleur's leave-taking of Hermione was the usual bittersweet affair, perhaps a touch more bitter because of Gabrielle's abrupt, if not wholly unanticipated, departure. Spring break really did seem a long way off, and Fleur had no seminar scheduled for the upcoming term. Things were reaching a critical point in her project, and she simply could not spare the time. R&D had not been what she was hired for, but her technique with glamours had excited so much interest that Robert had encouraged her to start her own program to develop it for commercial application. The New Year's Eve event involved Magicorp, and some paper signing ceremonies. Annoying, but necessary, for this preliminary grant was to be the foundation of some very big things to come for WMD and Fleur, Gabrielle, and Hermione.

The attorneys Dean Clark had retained for WMD would be deeply suspicious of the eventual commercial agreement, for they would have gotten everything they had asked for and more besides, and lawyers were paid to inspect the mouths of gift horses. Gabrielle would prevail upon the legal advisers of her department to look it over as well, and they would be thorough enough to discover what was behind this unexpected corporate largesse. Gabrielle would then quietly add Roger and Inez Staunton's names to a very exclusive list of 'people who were to be looked out for'. An informal sort of arrangement existed among the shadow warriors throughout the world, and they looked after their own.

Gabrielle would be able to assure Fleur that it was very much a good idea to sign the thing, and Fleur of course would take this advice without reservation. She would also reassure Robert on the subject. Robert was even more suspicious than his attorneys, for WMD had been screwed before.

Not this time, though. Magicorp, of course, would also benefit, and from more than just the arrangement with WMD and Fleur, which ultimately would prove extremely lucrative. Over time, word would filter through the centers of advanced magical research that Magicorp was a little different. Roger Staunton would by then be sharp enough to recognize a trend when he saw one, so as a board member he personally reviewed every prospective agreement of that nature that Magicorp considered. In a very few more years they would have virtually cornered the market on magical innovations, as by then none of the geek tanks would care to deal with anyone else. Magicorp stock would go through the roof. Hermione's financial plans were heavily invested in Magicorp.

That would all be very lovely, but it was as yet in the future, and unknown to them all. Fleur in any case had more pressing concerns.

xxxxxx

_"I'm sorry,"_ the letter from Ginny had begun. _"Harry told me you didn't need to hear it, but I need to say it. I'm sorry. Looking at it now, I guess I was just mad that the cozy little future I had envisioned for us all wasn't going to happen, and it was easier to blame you than Ron because, well, Mum and Dad. Shit, what a mess we all made of things. I should have listened to Ron, and believe me that's the first time I've ever said that._

_ I was also scared that I was going to lose you, that you would no longer be a part of my life. Sometimes you fear a thing so much that you make it happen just to get it over with, I guess. God, I'm sorry, 'Mione._

_James has been going on non-stop about how nice and how pretty you are. I don't think he'd ever seen a proper tan before and he was quite impressed. Thank you for what you've done for the kids, though that seems far too little to say for such generosity. I will let you be the first to know, though, that James is going to have another sister, even Harry doesn't know that yet. He's a dear, but you'd think that after three kids he'd recognize the signs, wouldn't you? Her name is Hermione Isabelle Potter, and I'm not asking, I'm telling, got it? _

_ I need to write to Fleur as well, and I will, but I'll go ahead and tell you that I couldn't be happier for the two of you, and screw what anyone else in the world thinks. It's none of their damn business, and if it comes up at the Burrow again Ron won't be the only one yelling._

_ Speaking of that, James has really keen hearing, and an unfortunately good memory. Ron will be sleeping on the couch for a while yet, I expect._

_ Time enough later to plan how to get together, Hermione, but our children need to know you and Fleur, and I too want my friend back._

_ I love you,_

_ Ginny"_

Hermione was pretty quick, and only a few words were smeared by her tears.

"Time to get ready for the bloody New Year's Eve party," she muttered as she wiped her nose on her sleeve. "But I'd have to say that it's shaping up to be a happy one." She put Ginny's letter in her jewelry box, and sorted out her 'Professor at the Party' clothes, regretfully leaving the strapless gown that Fleur had given her in the closet. It was beautiful, but she did not feel much like a Professor when she wore it. Also, it smelled like Fleur, and she simply could not handle that tonight in a public setting.

xxxxxx

Fortunately, from Fleur's point of view anyway, the Magicorp ceremony had taken place fairly early in the evening of that New Year's Eve Saturday. She was able to decently plead fatigue from her travel and the need to prepare for next week's classes to get away well before midnight. Most of the people there were too drunk by then to really notice anyway, but Robert had given her a hug and a sympathetic look when she told him goodnight.

"It can be hard at times," he said quietly, "but you are loved, truly loved, and you are worthy of it."

Robert was a good friend.

Fleur was nonetheless very subdued when she entered her cottage. She looked at the bottle of champagne that she had spirited away from the party, shrugged, and tucked it away in the fridge.

She dropped her clothes on the floor of her bedroom, folded the t-shirt and shorts that had been Hermione's parting gift to her into a sort of pillow, flicked out the lights with her wand and got into bed to await whatever sleep would bring to her.

xxxxxx

"_God, I hate this crap,"_ Hermione thought as she impatiently anticipated the time when she could leave the party. In this regard she was not so lucky as Fleur, and it would be well after midnight before she could return home and hold what she had of Fleur and Gabrielle.

_ "At least I can stop smiling when I get home. God, I hate this crap…"_

xxxxxx

Fleur awoke suddenly, and this time there had been no stifling the cry that tore from her throat. She was soaked in sweat, her heart was hammering in her chest, and she was trembling violently as she gasped for breath. She forced herself to calm down, and then headed for her shower.

She had to tell Hermione. She had been making progress, she _knew_ that she had. Small steps, but steps nonetheless.

But now this…

This had been more powerful even than the few minutes after Hermione had opened the chest, undeniably so.

She had to tell Hermione, now. She simply had to, waiting was not an option.

She bathed thoroughly to remove the traces of the dream; she wanted to be clean when she told Hermione. She pulled on jeans and a sweater, hurriedly threw a few things into her bag, jammed her feet into the first shoes that she came to, and left her cottage.

She saw Robert heading back to his house from the ongoing party, and moved to intercept him.

"Fleur, did you change your mind?" he greeted, but the smile on his face collapsed when he saw her expression.

"I must go to Hermione; I cannot put this off, my friend. If I am not back by Monday, can you see that my classes are covered?"

"Of course, sweetheart, but are you sure? You don't have to rush, things could still change, you know," his concern was plain in his voice.

"Non, I must go. This simply cannot be delayed, but I thank you for your concern," Fleur kissed him on the cheek and hurried to the Apparition point. Robert stared after her, and the worry was plain on his face.

Fleur made good use of the things Gabrielle had taught her when she reached the magic center, and she forced her way to the front of the line for a floo. Most of those she moved aside were too deep in their cups to recall her rudeness anyway.

She threw a handful of powder into the fire, spoke Hermione's floo address, and stepped into the flames.

xxxxxxx

"Finally," Hermione moaned aloud as the gathering broke up. "Later, Linda," she told her friend as she moved swiftly to the exit. All she wanted was the peace and the memories that her little house held for her.

The evening air was pleasant, and Hermione enjoyed the short walk home.

She was however surprised to hear the plaintive sounds of "Today" from inside her house.

_"I suppose that it's so natural by now to play that when they leave that I simply forgot that I had started it. Well, at least it matches my mood."_ The melancholy had settled in firmly by now.

She opened the door, entered and then secured the door behind her.

She turned to go to her bedroom and stopped in her tracks. There stood Fleur, and the sight of her had Hermione weeping in an instant.

xxxxxx

"Please, Lav-Lav," Ron entreated, "can't I come back to bed now? I meant it as a compliment you know."

"Some compliment, how many loo walls did you write that on, I wonder?"

"None! I swear it! I was angry, and it just sort of popped out."

"All right Ronald, you can come back to bed, but you'd best keep your 'drinking straw' from popping out. I've no quaffle, but I have a beater's bat near to hand."

"Yes dear," he said quietly.

_ "One step at the time,"_ Ron thought as he headed for his bed.

A/N : Okay, you hate me just now, but do you hate me enough ? Really, are you going to give up now?

PS: Feel free to let me have it.


	28. Chapter 28

Author: Lash_Larue

Title: "Not Fate" Chapter 28 of 28

Pairing: Fleur/Hermione Hermione/Gabrielle

Rating: PG 13-R

Summary: The why of the title, things are resolved

Warnings: None new, if you got through the last you'll get through this one okay too.

Word Count: 2300

Disclaimer: These characters belong to JK Rowling, except the ones like Linda Wilkes, who don't.

A/N: Thank you for your kind attention, and special thanks to those of you who have commented. Feedback is like oxygen. The ladies in the story are quite happy, promise.

L

"Not Fate"

Chapter 28

It is difficult not to weep, when the deepest longing of your heart is fulfilled.

Hermione stared through her tears, and her knees nearly buckled. She felt a spreading heat between her legs, and her breath caught in her throat as her heart tried to pound its way clear of her chest.

There stood Fleur in a clinging gown so white that it made sugar look dingy. Her hair was loose about her shoulders, and the look on her face was one of pure, passionate, hunger, with not the tiniest sliver of doubt or fear.

"You have feasted often at my table, my love," Fleur said in a voice heavy with emotion, "and now it is time for you to drink my sweet wine…"

Had she been able to think, been given any time to consider, Hermione might have hesitated out of remembered fear.

She was however given no such time, for Fleur _swarmed_ over her after she disposed of Hermione's clothing with a flick of her wand. She pulled Hermione on top of her as she fell onto their bed, and wrapped her arms and legs around her, pressing herself feverishly against Hermione. Fleur shoved her gown down towards her waist, seized Hermione by the hair, and pulled her mouth firmly to her breast.

The already-hardened nipple warmed noticeably on Hermione's tongue as Fleur's blood heated further, but her head was forced away from there before Hermione had had nearly enough.

"Now!" Fleur demanded, and she took one of Hermione's hands and pressed it firmly to her wet and eager folds, urging the fingers inside.

_All_ of it, all of the repressed longing that Fleur had for Hermione simply _poured_ from her as she eagerly surrendered to her touch, greedily milked her fingers, and ruthlessly plundered her mouth. The cry that came from Fleur's throat when Hermione's mouth joined her fingers, when Hermione at last tasted Fleur's love and need for her, was one of pure unbridled joy.

xxxxxx

Hermione had sort of casually expected, back when she and Fleur truly became a couple that she would naturally over time pick up a fair bit of the French language. This thought was reinforced when Gabrielle entered the picture on a permanent basis, because she and Fleur sometimes conversed in French.

She had not, however, expected to get a doctorate level course in just how many ways a single word of French could be pronounced, how widely the inflections could vary, and how nearly violently that she would react to it.

She felt Fleur stirring in her arms, and though by now she should not have been, she was still a little surprised when the soft lips gently kissed her ear, and Fleur breathed the word yet again...

_"Encore…"_

For a brief instant she wondered if it might not have been a good thing if Fleur and Gabrielle had been _those_ kinds of sisters, so that she would have some help, but then Fleur pushed Hermione's head firmly downward and she no longer wondered about anything at all.

Now. _Now_, in this moment, it was perfect. It was better even than the dream that had sent Fleur rushing to Hermione in the night.

They both knew that there would be times in the future when Fleur would wake from other than beautiful dreams, when she would pull away; withdraw in brief panic, for some wounds never fully heal. But they also knew that there would be more times like this, many more times like this in the years ahead of them, times to share with Gabrielle, times of great joy. And over time the bad times would come less often. Enough. Fleur would heal enough.

xxxxxx

Hermione did surface for a few minutes during the day to spell instructions onto the board in her classroom, along with a note saying that she would not be in that day. True, it was still Sunday, but…

It was passing noon on Monday when they finally admitted that a world existed beyond where they touched. The images that Fleur spelled into their lockets were a collage of lovemaking, bathing, cuddling, talking, a tiny bit of eating food, and brief stretches of what was more unconsciousness than sleep.

"I want you," Fleur said, "and you want me, and fear can no longer keep me from you."

"I got a little scared a time or two," Hermione admitted, "I thought one or the other of us was going to die for real a couple of times."

"Perhaps we need more practice?" Fleur suggested as she kissed Hermione. Fleur giggled at the look of mingled desire and trepidation that crossed Hermione's face.

Things were feeling a bit tender on each of them, and nearly everywhere. They had decided to let the bulk of the bruises, scratches, and bite marks heal on their own, however. They were frankly pleased with them, and Fleur had been sure to include their favorites in their lockets.

They also decided to try firecalling Gabrielle. Fleur had considered using her locket, but while the news was of tremendous import to them all, it was hardly an emergency. Gabrielle's assistant promised to let her know that they had called as soon as she got back from the planning session that currently had her away from her office.

They were cuddled together on the couch when Gabrielle's face appeared in the fire.

"Are you both well?" she asked, concern plain on her face.

"Extremely so," Fleur confirmed, and Gabrielle's face split in a wide grin.

"Merveilleux!" she exclaimed. "Please do not use her up before I see her again, ma belle soeur."

"How did you know?" Hermione asked her.

"I recognize the look on Fleur's face; I have seen it before, in the mirror. It is the face of a woman who has been dismantled by Hermione Granger. There is no other look to compare."

Hermione was absolutely astonished at the reaction that her body had to Gabrielle's face and voice when Gabrielle said that, even in its current state. _"I wonder if there is something wrong with me?"_ she thought. Then she looked at Fleur and Gabrielle as they talked excitedly together _"No,"_ she decided firmly, _"there is not a damn thing wrong here."_

"She is magnificent, is she not, Fleur?"

"Completely," Fleur agreed.

"If you two are trying to make me blush it's not going to work," Hermione advised them

"Of course not, Hermione my love," Gabrielle assured her. "I shall be with you soon; I look forward to my turn in the chair. Au 'voir, mon couers."

xxxxxx

The long spring term passed swiftly, and Gabrielle was able to visit twice for brief periods. Gabi really enjoyed her time in the chair, and was quite proud of both Hermione and Fleur. Paula Wellows returned from her trip to France with a glow about her, and happily told Hermione that Gabrielle had invited her to come to St. Catherine's for a weekend over the summer. Hermione had offered her sincere congratulations, and reminded herself not to get out of line with Gabi while Paula was there. Not that she thought she'd have the chance, for if Gabi had invited her, Gabi had plans for her that did not involve anyone else.

Ginny sent both Fleur and Hermione albums with pictures of the children, and one of her and Harry that showed that Hermione Isabelle was well on her way. Hermione put that one on the mantle. She and Fleur were going for a visit with them just prior to their time on St. Catherine's. Linda had chipped in a bit on the rent, and they had two whole months on St. Catherine's. Even better, Gabrielle would be with them most of the time.

Things both exciting and routine continued to occur for all of them, some good, others not.

In short, they lived the lives they had chosen for themselves, and were unceasingly appreciative of the time they were able to spend together.

Especially, of course, the time they had together on St. Catherine's.

xxxxxx

The visit with Harry and Ginny and their kids was approached nervously by all of the adults. Things had been said and done that could not be undone or wished away, and the relationships among them had been fundamentally altered.

But because they all really did care for one another the awkwardness soon passed, and while it was not what it had been, they were able to make a good start on what it would become. The kids warmed instantly to their estranged Aunts, and that helped things along. Harry heaved a huge inward sigh of relief when Fleur, Ginny, and Hermione exited his study with wet eyes and wide smiles, after having had a private talk.

Ron and Lavender were away, and Harry thought that a good thing, really. Lavender was a little unpredictable at times.

They visited over a weekend, and Percy actually stopped in to say hello, hiding his nervousness behind an overly formal manner. Hermione had to smile at that, because, well, it was so very _Percy-like_ of him.

"Thank you for having us as guests in your home, Ginny," Fleur said as the time of departure drew near, "I am happy to be friends with you again, and be sure and let us know when little Isabelle arrives. I also appreciate your acceptance of Hermione and me as a couple; it cannot be a simple thing for your heart."

"Simple enough," Ginny corrected, "it's obvious you belong together. Ron's happy, Bill's - oh! I guess you don't know, Bill's engaged, he says she's a real bitch!"

"And this makes him happy?" Hermione asked.

"It's a werewolf thing," Ginny explained, "for them, that's quite a compliment."

"Aunt Fleur, could you have a look at my charms essay before you go?" called James, and Fleur went over to help him.

"So," Ginny began, and the impish grin on her face had them back at Hogwarts, if only for the moment, "how's the sex?"

"Astonishing," Hermione promised with no hint of embarrassment. Ginny slowly nodded her head as she looked at Fleur.

"I'll bet. She looks like she'd taste good, and no whisker burn from _those_ cheeks, I'm sure," Ginny said. That did surprise Hermione a bit.

"Ginny – have you ever – with a woman?"

"Once. My last year at Hogwarts. Luna just walked right up to me and asked if I'd like to make love with her. She said that she could tell we'd 'mesh that way'. I was pissed off at Harry at the time, and we weren't even engaged then, and she was just so, so _Luna_, that I thought 'what the hell'. I'll never forget it."

"I shouldn't wonder, Luna is indeed Luna, and she is remarkable. Do you ever miss that? The touch of a woman?"

"Not really, or at least not often, anyway. I'm in love with Harry, really in love with him, and he's all that I need in that regard. In any case, Luna is the only woman I've ever felt that sort of attraction to, although there is something about Gabrielle that kind of- what are you grinning at?" Ginny demanded, but whatever reply Hermione had in mind was cut off when Fleur returned to them.

"We must go now, Hermione, you know how Gabrielle gets when you keep her waiting," Fleur reminded her.

Ginny's eyebrows disappeared into her hair, but Hermione's only answer to the unspoken question was a Mona Lisa smile.

"So. Not. Fair." Ginny whispered, and then both Fleur and Hermione kissed her on the cheek, said goodbye to Harry and the kids, and departed for St. Catherine's and the impatient Gabrielle.

"That went all right, didn't it love?" Harry asked as he hugged his wife and then kissed her.

"You need a shave, Harry."

xxxxxx

Fleur and Hermione took a moment and simply breathed deeply of the air that was very nearly food and drink to them both, and then they eagerly went to greet Gabi so that all of their hearts could again beat as they should.

By now the permanent residents of St. Catherine's loved them all and welcomed them like family, for the women in the lovely house on the small hill treated them as friends and neighbors rather than as serfs. The rare renter who was less than respectful of the property found it very hard indeed to get basic necessities there, much less any domestic help.

For Fleur, Gabrielle, and Hermione, St. Catherine's island was already home. There the three of them were free of constraint, and their love flourished and grew. Unconventional, perhaps, but it was theirs and nobody else's, forever. Married they could not be, but wedded they were, soul to soul to soul.

But blissful as the time there had been, it was once again coming to a temporary end, and Fleur, Hermione, Gabrielle, and Linda were enjoying the last few days before the outside world would once again assert itself.

"God, what a perfect couple," Linda said as she and Gabrielle watched Fleur and Hermione walk into the warm blue water, "fate must have brought them together."

"No," Gabrielle demurred with a shake of her head, "not fate. Uncommon minds, shared interests, courage, and desire. There are two strong women, each of whom had the courage to seek what she truly wanted, to leave all that she had known to discover who she truly was, and could become. It was this strength, this courage, which merged their roads. Those women _fought_ for their love. They fought, and they triumphed. They brought themselves together, not fate." Gabrielle took up a bottle and rubbed flobberworm extract on Linda's back, and Linda leaned into the touch.

"Fate?" Gabrielle continued, as she gazed on the two women she loved above all else, two women she had killed for.

"Fate is their bitch."


End file.
